I tried each thing, only some were immortal and free.
Not until it starts to stink does the inevitable happen.
I always thought that writing poetry was in itself a political act.
The soul establishes itself. But how far can it swim out through the eyes And still return safely to its nest?
There is the view that poetry should improve your life. I think people confuse it with the Salvation Army.
The gray glaze of the past attacks all know-how...