" 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 "

- e. e.