I love the poetry of e. e. cummings. I wanted to find an online version of "in just". Apparently, online versions of his poetry didn't make enough money for his publishers, so all but three of his poems were yanked when I wrote this, and the one I wanted wasn't allowed. So I just posted my own... "in just" is now available online, to the delight of e. e. cummings fans everywhere.
its spring when the world is puddle-wonderful and free free for jenny and jeff come running from marbles and pirates and flowers free for copyright lawyers come running from the tombs of the courts dancing with the little goat-footed balloon man who whistles far and whee and its spring burgeoning joy dawning on the buds of the trees air perfumed with life so thick you can sneeze it and the waters of life rain down on spring birthing again the squirrel the pigeon the doodlebug that curls up when you flick it or touch it the ground is covered with them in the wet morning air and they say its spring when the world is puddle-wonderful and the goat-footed balloon man whistles far and whee the world is free in spring the ice-cream cone is cold enough to melt in the warm spring blanket of air wrapping us all in the bed of life where we sleep as we awake stirring in our sleep pondering busted statues as the vines of spring entwine over power make green and jungular lush humid and dripping puddle-wonderful far and whee as the goat-footed balloon man dances on the busted statues and ruins of yore the crumbles of vanity under the eternity of life and spring the big ripe peach big as your hand arouses all of your senses all of them bite through the air your tongue touches the fuzz hear the nectar as you smell the chomp and see nothing but the explosion of the puddle-wonderful spring. (the period was my idea but other punctuation had to suffer for it