My Name Is Truth And I Am

I Have Always Felt That A Woman Has The Right To Treat The Subject Of Her Age With Ambiguity Until, Perhaps, She Passes Into The Realm Of Over Ninety. Then It Is Better She Be Candid With Herself And With The World.

I Am! I Have Come Through! I Belong!

Come On, You Do You Want To Live Forever?

Slang Is A Language That Rolls Up Its Sleeves, Spits On Its Hands And Goes To Work.

Poetry Is A Theorem Of A Yellow-silk Handkerchief Knotted With Riddles, Sealed In A Balloon Tied To The Tail Of A Kite Flying In A White Wind Against A Blue Sky In Spring.