Never Make It Perfect.

Mama, Put My Guns In The Ground, I Can't Shoot Them Anymore. That Long Black Cloud Is Coming Down.

Don't Follow Leaders, Watch Your Parkin' Meters.

Someone Handed Me Mexico City Blues In St. Paul [minnesota] In 1959 And It Blew My Mind. It Was The First Poetry That Spoke My Own Language.

Get Jailed, Jump Bail, Join The Army If You Fail.

Your Eyes Are Like Two Jewels In The Sky.