I'm about 80% sure he's my favourite poet.

Now i lay(with everywhere around)
me(the great dim deep sound
of rain;and of always and of nowhere)and
what a gently welcoming darkestness--

now i lay me down(in a most steep
more than music)feeling that sunlight is
(life and day are)only loaned:whereas
night is given(night and death and the rain

are given;and given is how beautifully snow)

now i lay me down to dream of(nothing
i or any somebody or you
can begin to begin to imagine)

something which nobody may keep.
now i lay me down to dream of Spring

- "Now i lay(with everywhere around)," by ee cummings

Also, it makes you want to listen to Michelle Branch.

The problem with having an LJ that goes all the way back to eighth grade is that every now and again you want to check up on who you were six years ago, and you settle down with a nice cup of tea and read...

... and quickly realize that you were a twat. Christ.

Was anyone here actually likable in junior high, or are we all unbearable until puberty's finally over?