Poetry Is A Plan For A Slit

An Ambition Is A Little Creeper That Creeps And Creeps In Your Heart Night And Day, Singing A Little Song, "come And Find Me, Come And Find Me."

There Is A Formal Poetry Perfect Only In Form?the Number Of Syllables, The Designated And Required Stresses Of Accent, The Rhymes If Wantedthey Come Off With The Skill Of A Solved Crossword Puzzle.

We Don't Have To Think Up A Title Till We Get The Doggone Book Written.

Arithmetic Is Where The Answer Is Right And Everything Is Nice And You Can Look Out Of The Window And See The Blue Sky - Or The Answer Is Wrong And You Have To Start Over And Try Again And See How It Comes Out This Time.

Sometime They'll Give A War And Nobody Will Come.