The Real America That Whitman Proclaimed And

The Censorship Of Language Is The Censorship Of Consciousness.

Poetry Is The One Place Where People Can Speak Their Original Human Mind. It Is The Outlet For People To Say In Public What Is Known In Private.

I'm An Old Man Now, And A Lonesome Man In Kansas / But Not Afraid / To Speak My Lonesomeness In A Car, / Because Not Only My Lonesomeness / It's Ours, All Over America, / O Tender Fellows --/ & Spoken Lonesomeness Is Prophecy / In The Moon 100 Years Ago Or In / The Middle Of Kansas Now.

What If Someone Gave A War And Nobody Came?

The Whole Blear World Of Smoke And Twisted Steel Around My Head In A Railroad Car, And My Mind Wandering Past The Rust Into Futurity: I Saw The Sun Go Down In A Carnal And Primeval World, Leaving Darkness To Cover My Railroad Train Because The Other Side Of The World Was Waiting For Dawn.