Ode to a Public Commode
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
Superiority begs no proving.
The society that best abolishes adventure makes that societies’ abolition the best adventure.
“Jimi Hendrix never played here.” —Royal Festival Hall
Does heaven plug a hole in earth, or earth plug a hole in heaven? How wonderful to be so profound.
Love understands and therefore waits.
Who beats the drum the drummer beats in time with?
John Lennon, December 8, 1980—the dream is over.
When we are old, let us also be wise, lest there be weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.
Is questioning questionable?
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
Time honours pleasant memories
The bursting forth of a springtime bud is a miraculous sermon on the hope of the future.
True friends should be allowed to move in mysterious ways, like clouds.
What is the empirical value of truth?
If a picture is worth a thousand words, then what is the worth of a picture of the word “love”?
When will what I should do be the same as what I would do?
If you don’t see what your love is worth, no one ever will.
You may never know, if you have to ask, “why art?”
Killing time injures eternity.
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
The reason there are so many marriages breaking up is because it is hard to tell a peach from a lemon in the moonlight.
When poets write, do they right?
We may not always return the affection given us by others, but we always admire their good judgement.
The man who’s been running around has an alternative wifestyle.
If life hands you a lemon, make lemonade; but if life hands you a strawberry, share it.
When in doubt, use your doubt to doubt your doubt.
The most beautiful person, like a tree, is one that has the courage to grow, yet doesn’t move.
Today is the first day of the rest of your life, but today also brings you one day closer to death.
Hope is a smile to the destitute.
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
Where would we be without graffiti?
Tinkle, tinkle, flush, flush,
Tinkle, tinkle, flush.
From Ninety-Seven Poems, but otherwise previously unpublished.