There Is A Kind Of Poetry, Bad

The Head Has Its Confines. The Head’s Got Those All Right, And The Heart. The Heart Has Its Reasons.

Fashion Is Fickle, And I Was Published Because I Was Fashionable. Because I Was Gay.

Remember You Must Live. Remember You Most Love. Remainder You Mist Leaf.

All We Need To Do, Reader Or Writer, From First Line To Final Page, Is Be As Open As A Book, And Be Alive To The Life In Language - On All Its Levels.

We'd Never Expect To Understand A Piece Of Music On One Listen, But We Tend To Believe We've Read A Book After Reading It Just Once.