If You Believe You're A Poet, Then

I Think Of New York City Lost In Stars Forgotten As A Blue Haired Pet Of Childhood Love Tonight The Night Is Full.

O How Terrible It Must Be For A Young Man-- Seated Before A Family And The Family Thinking We Never Saw Him Before! He Wants Our Mary Lou! After Tea And Homemade Cookies They Ask What Do You Do For A Living

Ah, If I Were Dictator I'd Have Poets Throwing Bombs!

But When The Conquered Spirit Breaks Free And Indicates A New Light Who'll Take Care Of The Cats?

My Father Took Me Back Home, Back To Greenwich Village, And He Thought By Taking Me Out Of The Orphanage He'd Be Out Of The World War Too. But No Way - They Got Him Anyway. He Went In The Navy And Then I Lived On The Streets.