Poetry Is A Shuffling Of Boxes Of

Poetry Is A Dance Music Measuring Buck-and-wing Follies Along With The Gravest And Stateliest Dead-marches.

I Remember The Chillicothe Ballplayers Grappling The Long Island Ball Players In A Sixteen-inning Game Ended By Darkness. And The Shoulders Of The Chillicothe Players Were A Red Smoke Against The Sundown And The Shoulders Of The Rock Island Players Were A Yellow Smoke Against The Sundown. And The Umpire's Voice Was Hoarse Calling Balls And Strikes And Outs And The Umpire's Throat Fought In The Dust For A Song.

I Have Always Felt That A Woman Has The Right To Treat The Subject Of Her Age With Ambiguity Until, Perhaps, She Passes Into The Realm Of Over Ninety. Then It Is Better She Be Candid With Herself And With The World.

Such A Big Miracle In Such A Tiny Baby. Big Things Often Have Small Beginnings A Baby Is God's Opinion That Life Should Go On.

Here Is The Difference Between Dante, Milton, And Me. They Wrote About Hell And Never Saw The Place. I Wrote About Chicago After Looking The Town Over For Years And Years.