Nothing happens... but first a dream.
Poetry is the harnessing of the paradox of earth cradling life and then entombing it.
In the night the cabbages catch at the moon, the leaves drip silver, the rows of cabbages are a series of little silver waterfalls in the moon.
Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
The machine yes the machine never wastes anybody's time never watches the foreman never talks back.
Revolt and terror pay a price. Order and law have a cost.