It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down. And your eyes and the moon swept the valley.
Slang is a language that rolls up its sleeves, spits on its hands and goes to work.
Whenever a people or an institution forget its hard beginnings, it is beginning to decay.
Back of every mistaken venture and defeat is the laughter of wisdom, if you listen.
Poetry is a sky dark with a wild-duck migration.
Poetry is the opening and closing of a door, leaving those who look through to guess about what is seen during the moment.