History Is Where Tensions Were.

Mostly The Thought And The Verse Come Inseparably. In My Poem Poetics, It's As Close As I Come To Telling How I Do It.

Why Are Stamps Adorned With Kings And Presidents? That We May Lick Their Hinder Parts And Thump Their Heads.

When In Still Air And Still In Summertime A Leaf Has Had Enough Of This, It Seems To Make Up Its Mind To Go; Fine As A Sage Its Drifting In Detachment Down The Road.

I Liked The Kid Who Wrote Me That He Had To Do A Term Paper On A Modern Poet And He Was Doing Me Because, Though They Say You Have To Read Poems Twice, He Found He Could Handle Mine In One Try.

Till I, High In The Tower Of My Time Among Familiar Ruins, Began To Cry For Accident, Sickness, Justice, War And Crime, Because All Died, Because I Had To Die. The Snow Fell, The Trees Stood, The Promise Kept, And A Child I Slept.