There Is A Moment, A Chip In

And You Read Your Emily Dickinson, And I My Robert Frost. And We Note Our Place With Bookmarkers That Measure What Weve Lost.

Mama, Don't Take My Kodachrome Away.

Where Have You Gone, Joe Dimaggio? A Nation Turns Its Lonely Eyes To You.

We're Living In A Certain Time, And We're Aware Of It. And That's Part Of What We're Aware Of, Along With Our Own Personal Aches And Pains.

These Are The Days Of Lasers In The Jungle, Staccato Signals Of Constant Information.