I Decided I Would Go To Chicago

The Fog Comes On Little Cat Feet.

Poetry Is A Fresh Morning Spider-web Telling A Story Of Moonlit Hours Of Weaving And Waiting During A Night.

A Man May Be Born, But In Order To Be Born He Must First Die, And In Order To Die He Must First Awake.

All We Need To Begin With Is A #‎ Dream That We Can Do Better Than Before. All We Need To Have Is Faith, And That Dream Will Come True. All We Need To Do Is Act, And The Time For Action Is Now.

Poetry Is An Art Practiced With The Terribly Plastic Material Of Human Language.