What I write could only be called poetry because there is no other category to put it. - Marianne Moore

Beauty is everlasting
and dust is for a time.

America where there
is the little old ramshackle victoria in the south,
where cigars are smoked on the street in the north;
where there are no proof-readers, no silkworms, no digressions;

the wild man's land; grassless, linksless, languageless country in
which letters are written
not in Spanish, not in Greek, not in Latin, not in shorthand,
but in plain American which cats and dogs can read!

"...when dragged into prominence by half poets, the result is not poetry, nor till the poets among us can be "literalists of the imagination" — above insolence and triviality and can present for inspection, "imaginary gardens with real toads in them," shall we have it."