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E.E. Cummings
who knows if the moon’s
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky—filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should
get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we’d go up high with all the pretty people
than the houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody’s ever visited,where
always
it’s
Spring)and everyone’s
in love and flowers pick themselves
Versedaily!
Whene’er you feel comfortable, visit versedaily. They’ve had some great poems up there lately.
Hey, I’m moved in!
Things are great. I’ve still got a few more things to bring, though. Eh.
My roommates are fun to be with, and mellow. Mellow is so nice right now. And my room is fun, too. I slept so well last night; W. Main puts me to sleep. The trains don’t even wake me up. I like their sound, even their horns. In fact, I hear one way off in the distance right now. Long, long, short, long. Love it.
this is nothing. 