The First Step... Shall Be To Lose

I Will Find That Special Person Who Is Wrong For Me In Just The Right Way.

The Bud Stands For All Things, Even For Those Things That Don't Flower

Perhaps Poetry Will Be The Canary In The Mine-shaft Warning Us Of What's To Come.

Goodbye, You Who Are, For Me, The Postmarks Again Of Shattered Towns--xenia, Burnt Cabins, Hornell-- Their Loneliness Given Away In Poems, Only Their Solitude Kept.

Little Sleep's-head Sprouting Hair In The Moonlight, When I Come Back We Will Go Out Together, We Will Walk Out Together Among, The Ten Thousand Things, Each Scratched Too Late With Such Knowledge, The Wages Of Dying Is Love.