i have been reading alot of poetry.
for school, of course.
i cannot stumble onto meaning alone, you know.

lawrence ferlinghetti is the man of the moment.
he founded a little book store that i hope to visit one day:


I Am Waiting by L. Ferlinghetti [1958]
(last stanza)

I am waiting
to get some intimations
of immortality
by recollecting my early childhood
and I am waiting
for the green mornings to come again
youth's dumb green fields come back again
and I am waiting
for some strains of unpremeditated art
to shake my typewriter
and I am waiting to write
the great indelible poem
and I am waiting
for the last long careless rapture
and I am perpetually waiting
for the fleeting lovers on the Grecian Urn
to catch each other up at last
and embrace
and I am awaiting
perpetually and forever
a renaissance of wonder