Poetry Is A Mystic, Sensuous Mathematics Of

Pile The Bodies High At Austerlitz And Waterloo. Shovel Them Under And Let Me Work. I Am The Grass. I Cover All.

Tongues Wrangled Dark At A Man. He Buttoned His Overcoat And Stood Alone. In A Snowstorm, Red Hollyberries, Thoughts, He Stood Alone.

Tell No Man Anything, For No Man Listens Yet Hold Thy Lips Ready To Speak.

I Remember The Chillicothe Ballplayers Grappling The Long Island Ball Players In A Sixteen-inning Game Ended By Darkness. And The Shoulders Of The Chillicothe Players Were A Red Smoke Against The Sundown And The Shoulders Of The Rock Island Players Were A Yellow Smoke Against The Sundown. And The Umpire's Voice Was Hoarse Calling Balls And Strikes And Outs And The Umpire's Throat Fought In The Dust For A Song.

The Impact Of Television On Our Culture Is. . . Indescribable. There's A Certain Sense In Which It Is Nearly As Important As The Invention Of Printing.