American - Poet | September 30, 1927 -
Now all my teachers are dead except silence.
W. S. Merwin
SilenceNowTeachersDeadExcept
We are asleep with compasses in our hands.
HandsOurAsleep
Poetry is like making a joke. If you get one word wrong at the end of a joke, you've lost the whole thing.
PoetryEndYouWrongLostOne Word
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