Poetry Is A Projection Across

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

Rest Is Not A Word Of Free People. Rest Is A Monarchical Word.

When I Was Writing Pretty Poor Poetry, This Girl With Midnight Black Hair Told Me To Go On.

Love Your Neighbor As Yourself But Don't Take Down Your Fence.

There Will Be A Rusty Gun On The Wall, Sweetheart, The Rifle Grooves Curling With Flakes Of Rust. A Spider Will Make A Silver String Nest In The Darkest, Warmest Corner Of It.