What If They Gave A War And

I Cried Over Beautiful Things, Knowing No Beautiful Thing Lasts.

I Decided I Would Go To Chicago And Try My Luck As A Writer After Those Eight Months As A Fireman.

Poetry Is A Dance Music Measuring Buck-and-wing Follies Along With The Gravest And Stateliest Dead-marches.

I Doubt If You Can Have A Truly Wild Party Without Liquor.

Now I Am Here - Now Read Me - Give Me A Name.