Poetry Is A Plan For A Slit

Poetry Is The Synthesis Of Hyacinths And Biscuits.

I Decided I Would Go To Chicago And Try My Luck As A Writer After Those Eight Months As A Fireman.

The People Know What The Land Knows.

Man Is A Long Time Coming. Man Will Yet Win. Brother May Yet Line Up With Brother: This Old Anvil Laughs At Many Broken Hammers.there Are Men Who Can't Be Bought.

It Was Here We Turned The Coffee Cups Upside Down. And Your Eyes And The Moon Swept The Valley.