Poetry Is The Opening And Closing Of

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.

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

There Is An Eagle In Me That Wants To Soar.

I Was Up Day And Night With Lincoln For Years. I Couldn't Have Picked A Better Companion.

The Peace Of Great Books Be For You, Stains Of Pressed Clover Leaves On Pages, Bleach Of The Light Of Years Held In Leather.