Poetry Is About The Grief.

If One By One We Counted People Out For The Least Sin, It Wouldn't Take Us Long To Get So We Had No One Left To Live With. For To Be Social Is To Be Forgiving.

A Bird Half Wakened In The Lunar Noon Sang Halfway Through Its Little Inborn Tune.

Only God And I Knew What I Meant When I Wrote It, Now Only God Knows

Space Ails Us Moderns: We Are Sick With Space.

Education Doesn't Change Life Much. It Just Lifts Trouble To A Higher Plane Of Regard.