Time, Which Grays Hair And

Your Poems Are Of Interest To Mankind; Your Liver Isn't. Drink Till You Write Well And Feel Sick. Bless Your Poems And Be Damned To You.

I'd Like To Be In The Country So That I'd Could Like Being In The City.

And As Well As I Dream, I Reason If I Want, For That's Just Another Kind Of Dream.

I'd Woken Up Early, And I Took A Long Time Getting Ready To Exist.

Fraternity Has Subtleties.