What is there more of in the world than anything else? Ends.
Poetry is a puppet-show, where riders of skyrockets and divers of sea fathoms gossip about the sixth sense and the fourth dimension.
Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
Arithmetic is where numbers fly like pigeons in and out of your head.
What else have I done nearly all my life than go hungry and go on singing?
By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.