The real thing creates its own poetry.
Science has salvaged scrap metal and even found vitamins and valuable oils in refuse, but old people are extravagantly wasted.
I tasted the bread and wine of equality.
The only compensation for the artist is the chance to feed hungry hearts.
If I had never met him I would have dreamed him into being.
Poor people who had escaped from poverty as I had, feared it, hated it and fled from it all their lives. Those born rich could afford to be touched by it.