Enough Small Empty Boxes Thrown Into A

What If Someone Gave A War & Nobody Came? / Life Would Ring The Bells Of Ecstasy And Forever Be Itself Again.

If I Added To Their Pride Of America, I Am Happy.

Poetry Is The Journal Of A Sea Animal Living On Land, Wanting To Fly In The Air.

I Am! I Have Come Through! I Belong!

Poetry Is The Report Of A Nuance Between Two Moments, When People Say, 'listen!' And 'did You See It?' 'did You Hear It? What Was It?'