A Poem Should Not Mean But Be.

Spring Has Many American Faces. There Are Cities Where It Will Come And Go In A Day And Counties Where It Hangs Around And Never Quite Gets There. Summer Is Drawn Blinds In Louisiana, Long Winds In Wyoming, Shade Of Elms And Maples In New England.

The Perversion Of The Mind Is Only Possible When Those Who Should Be Heard In Its Defence Are Silent.

Races Didn't Bother The Americans. They Were Something A Lot Better Than Any Race. They Were A People. They Were The First Self-constituted, Self-declared, Self-created People In The History Of The World.

How Shall Freedom Be Defended? By Arms When It Is Attacked By Arms, By Truth When It Is Attacked By Lies, By Faith When It Is Attacked By Authoritarian Dogma. Always, In The Final Act, By Determination And Faith.

A Poem Should Be Palpable And Mute As A Globed Fruit.