In My Stiff, Brocaded Gown. With My

All Recurring Joy Is Pain Refined.

To Understand Vers Libre, One Must Abandon All Desire To Find In It The Even Rhythm Of Metrical Feet. One Must Allow The Lines To Flow As They Will When Read Aloud By An Intelligent Reader.

Moon! Moon! I Am Prone Before You. Pity Me,and Drench Me In Loneliness.

May Is Much Sunshine Through Small Leaves.

Happiness: We Rarely Feel It. I Would Buy It, Beg It, Steal It, Pay In Coins Of Dripping Blood For This One Transcendent Good.