who knows if the moon's... (VII) by E. E. Cummings
who knows if the moon's a balloon,coming out of a keen city in the sky--filled with pretty people? (and if you and i should
get into it,if they should take me and take you into their balloon, why then we'd go up higher with all the pretty people
than houses and steeples and clouds: go sailing away and away sailing into a keen city which nobody's ever visited,where
always it's Spring)and everyone's in love and flowers pick themselves
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