Poetry Is An Enumeration Of Birds, Bees,

The Dead Hold In Their Hands Only What They Have Given Away.

When I Was Writing Pretty Poor Poetry, This Girl With Midnight Black Hair Told Me To Go On.

I Doubt If You Can Have A Truly Wild Party Without Liquor.

There Will Be A Rusty Gun On The Wall, Sweetheart, The Rifle Grooves Curling With Flakes Of Rust. A Spider Will Make A Silver String Nest In The Darkest, Warmest Corner Of It.

Read The Dictionary From A To Izzard Today. Get A Vocabulary. Brush Up On Your Diction. See Whether Wisdom Is Just A Lot Of Language.