A Poem Begins As A Lump In

Forgive, O Lord, My Little Jokes On Thee, And I'll Forgive Thy Great Big Joke On Me.

In Three Words I Can Sum Up Everything I've Learned About Life: It Goes On.

We're Either Nothing Or A God's Regret.

Have I Not Walked Without An Upward Look Of Caution Under Stars That Very Well Might Not Have Missed Me When They Shot And Fell? It Was A Risk I Had To Take-and Took.

How Are We To Write The Russian Novel In America As Long As Life Goes So Unterribly?