The best things in life, like inspiration, are free. I walk down a new street and chance to see a poem pasted to a wall. The words inspire me; the random discovery inspires me; the sense of the sublime presented in a crude, common way inspires me. Someone else before me has apparently been inspired to add a red heart on top of the words, their spontaneous red curving lines spilling out onto the wall itself. I take a photo and post it here on my blog because this public display of words and thoughts and art inspires me to post my writings in public too. The domino-effect could continue on and on, depending on who sees it, who values it, who sees something personal in it, who is moved to take creative action. The poem above speaks of dancing in the square (nella piazza), and I visualize the dancers, eyes locked to one another, performing the tango for anyone who wants to watch. Was the poem inspired by a real dance? I am …