Joy Is Not Made To Be A

Whoever You Are, No Matter How Lonely, The World Offers Itself To Your Imagination.

Isn’t It Wonderful The Way The World Holds Both The Deeply Serious, And The Unexpectedly Mirthful?

There Is A Notion That Creative People Are Absent-minded, Reckless, Heedless Of Social Customs And Obligations. It Is, Hopefully, True For They Are In Another World Altogether.

The Poem In Which The Reader Does Not Feel Himself Or Herself A Participant Is A Lecture, Listened To From An Uncomfortable Chair, In A Stuffy Room, Inside A Building.

Are My Boots Old? Is My Coat Torn? / Am I No Longer Young, And Still Not Half-perfect?