I Doubt If You Can Have A

Poetry Is A Fossil Rock-print Of A Fin And A Wing, With An Illegible Oath Between.

Poetry Is A Plan For A Slit In The Face Of A Bronze Fountain Goat And The Path Of Fresh Drinking Water.

Time Is The Coin Of Life. Only You Can Determine How It Will Be Spent.

There Is No Song To Your Singing.

Out Of Great Russia Came Three Dusky Syllables Workmen Took Guns And Went Out To Die For: Bread, Peace, Land.