Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore,
Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,
To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout, and laughingly dash with your hair.
Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman.
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White Shirts
Pulling out teeth accepting All sorts of small beginnings End in a history of emerging Detachment quick to find Cures walking to the suburbs, Lecture…
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Arts Assemble: Recognition In Humanities
Does the highest star know Its descendants are squabbling Over, Whether or not to name it logic or beauty? The Arts Assemble is a student/staff-led…
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The Noble Thing
Does the highest star knowIts descendants are squabbling,Over,Whether or not to name itlogic or beauty?When the scientist tells the poetThat it is made up of…
Memoirs of A Poet 