Poetry Is A Shuffling Of Boxes Of

Who Am I, Where Have I Been, And Where Am I Going?

If [america] Forgets Where She Came From, If The People Lose Sight Of What Brought Them Along, If She Listens To The Deniers And Mockers, Then Will Begin The Rot And Dissolution.

Poetry Is A Phantom Script Telling How Rainbows Are Made And Why They Go Away.

All My Life I Have Been Trying To Learn To Read, To See And Hear, And To Write.

Let A Joy Keep You. Reach Out Your Hands And Take It When It Runs By.