Poetry whirls down drains,
cruises down highway lanes..
toll free.

Poetry is a clear potion,
a natural motion.

Poetry is the bird gliding high,
and of course, the sky.

Poetry is thundering elk
through forests and glades,
and the wolves that keep pace.

Poetry is the ****.

Poetry is democracy,
and its unfortunate hypocracy.

Poetry is eternity vanished in an instant.

Poetry is a slaughterhouse,
a vegetable garden.

Poetry is cat and mouse.

Poetry ascends to descend,
breaks to repair,
it's uncommonly rare.

Poetry is the longest minute
and the shortest hour.

Poetry lives when it is dead.
Poetry comes from the body,
thought by the head.