Blues Had The Pulse Beat Of The

I Felt Very Bad In Washington. . . I Didn't Like My Job, And I Didn't Know What Was Going To Happen To Me, And I Was Cold And Half-hungry, So I Wrote A Great Many Poems.

Money And Art Are Far Apart.

When You Turn The Corner And You Run Into Yourself Then You Know That You Have Turned All The Corners That Are Left.

Go Home And Write / A Page Tonight. / And Let That Page Come Out Of You - / Then, It Will Be True.

I Swear To The Lord, I Still Can't See, Why Democracy Means, Everybody But Me.