Nothing happens unless first we dream.

Nothing happens unless first a dream.

Poetry is any page from a sketchbook of outlines of a doorknob with thumb-prints of dust, blood, dreams.

There are dreams stronger than death. Men and women die holding these dreams.

Lips half-willing in a doorway. Lips half-singing at a window. Eyes half-dreaming in the walls. Feet half-dancing in a kitchen. Even the clocks half-yawn the hours And the farmers make half-answers.

The republic is a dream, Nothing happens unless first a dream