Poetry Is The Opening And Closing Of

Now I Am Here - Now Read Me - Give Me A Name.

I Never Made A Mistake In Grammar But One In My Life And As Soon As I Done It I Seen It.

There Are Men And Women So Lonely They Believe God, Too, Is Lonely.

Under The Harvest Moon, When The Soft Silver Drips Shimmering Over The Garden Nights, Death, The Gray Mocker, Comes And Whispers To You As A Beautiful Friend Who Remembers.

Lay Me On An Anvil, O God. Beat Me And Hammer Me Into A Steel Spike.