Well, One Thing I'm Really Interested In,

She'd Crack A Joke Sharp As A Tin Lid Hot From The Teeth Of The Can-opener, And Cackle Her Crack-corn Laugh.

This Creature Of The Poem May Assemble Itself Into A Being With Its Own Centrifugal Force.

To Me, The Mind Seems To Be Spread Out In The Whole Body - The Senses Are Part Of The Brain. I Guess They're Not Where The Thinking Is Done.

There Is Something In Me Maybe Someday To Be Written; Now It Is Folded, And Folded, And Folded, Like A Note In School.

My Poems - I Don't Even Like The Sound Of That, In A Way. Not That Anyone Else Wrote Them. But We Know That Only People Who Are Really Close To Us Care About Our Personal Experience.