People like definite decisions, / Tidy answers, all the little ravelings / Snipped off, the lint removed, they / Hop happily among their roughs / Calling what they can't clutch insanity / Or saintliness.

What shall I give my children? who are poor, / Who are adjudged the leastwise of the land...

I shall create! If not a note, a hole./If not an overture, a desecration.

Poetry is life distilled.

With melted opals for my milk, Pearl-leaf for my cracker.

Very early in life I became fascinated with the wonders language can achieve. And I began playing with words.

Be careful what you swallow. Chew!