Let the gentle bush dig its root deep and spread upward to split the boulder.

Poetry is a sequence of dots and dashes, spelling depths, crypts, cross-lights, and moon wisps.

Poetry is the capture of a picture, a song, or a flair, in a deliberate prism of words.

Hope is an echo, hope ties itself yonder, yonder.

Nothing happens... but first a dream.

We had two grand antique professors who had been teaching at Lombard since before I was born.

Arithmetic is numbers you squeeze from your head to your hand to your pencil to your paper till you get the answer.