--”a machine” “of words” I fight with my teacher we disagree while he says, “sonnets are antiquated” I argue that ironically

they’re free that is that as a machine they’re okay No struggle for form needs to be mentioned what’s necessary for art is patience not only restlessness rewards senses We quarrel and through our verses make peace doctor to doctor and what have you hear? a free verse is not free at all you see it is dependent upon its seasons joyful melancholy yellow honey that coming toward its entrance it drives the stark dignity of beauty alive

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