Poetry Is A Kinetic Arrangement Of Static

I Remember In My Early 20s When I Felt I Couldn't Live Past 30. I Was Learning How To Write. I Had A Lot Of Hard Work Ahead Of Me.

Pile The Bodies High At Austerlitz And Waterloo. Shovel Them Under And Let Me Work- I Am The Grass; I Cover All. And Pile Them High At Gettysburg. And Pile Them High At Ypres And Verdun. Shovel Them Under And Let Me Work. Two Years, Ten Years,and Passengers Ask The Conductor- What Place Is This? Where Are We Now? I Am The Grass. Let Me Work.

Two Bubbles Found They Had Rainbows On Their Curves. They Flickered Out Saying: "it Was Worth Being A Bubble, Just To Have Held That Rainbow Thirty Seconds.

I Had Been Keeping An Off Eye On The Advertising Field, Thinking I Might Become An Idea Man And A Copywriter.

There Is No Song To Your Singing.