Sometimes I do like him.

Sorolla's women in their picture hats stretched upon his canvas beaches beguiled the Spanish Impressionists And were they fraudulent pictures of the world the way the light played on them creating illusions of love? I cannot help but think that their 'reality' was almost as real as my memory of today when the last sun hung on the hills and I heard the day falling like the gulls that fell almost to land while the last picnickers lay and loved in the blowing yellow broom resisted and resisting tearing themselves apart again again until the last hot hung climax which could at last no longer be resisted made them moan And night's trees stood up -Ferlinghetti.