The Machine Yes The Machine Never Wastes

In Democracy Both A Deep Reverence And A Sense Of The Comic Are Requisite.

Arithmetic Is Numbers You Squeeze From Your Head To Your Hand To Your Pencil To Your Paper Till You Get The Answer.

I Remember The Chillicothe Ballplayers Grappling The Long Island Ball Players In A Sixteen-inning Game Ended By Darkness. And The Shoulders Of The Chillicothe Players Were A Red Smoke Against The Sundown And The Shoulders Of The Rock Island Players Were A Yellow Smoke Against The Sundown. And The Umpire's Voice Was Hoarse Calling Balls And Strikes And Outs And The Umpire's Throat Fought In The Dust For A Song.

I Couldn't See Myself Filling Some Definite Niche In What Is Called A Career. This Was All Misty.

Poetry Is A Mock Of A Cry At Finding A Million Dollars And A Mock Of A Laugh At Losing It.