Max?' he asked.'Yeah?''...What are you doing?''Shooting people.
Prose fills a space, like a liquid poured in from the top, but poetry occupies it, arrays itself in formation, sets up camp and refuses to budge.
Walking Home: A Poet's Journey
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Prose fills a space, like a liquid poured in from the top, but poetry occupies it, arrays itself in formation, sets up camp and refuses to budge.
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