Poets who brought bears to college and buried dogs under monuments.

What do you call a woman who wouldn't cross the lawn for Emerson, but rigged a rope from her window for children she refused to greet at the door?

He cast a horoscope for a man who didn't exist and determined he'd been born nine and a half hours before his own conception.

What happens when a car company asks a sixty-seven-year-old Pulitzer poet to name their next sedan?

Expelled at eighteen for holding a greengrocer's daughter's hand, he was saluted through twenty-two German checkpoints eleven years later wearing a stolen general's cap.

What happens when a Soviet prison doctor has to diagnose the man who invented Russian absurdism?

A Victorian poet built a second house identical to his first, same rooms, same floor plan, so his cat wouldn't feel disoriented.

A Russian poet did the math on every empire that ever fell, got an answer, and predicted the Russian Revolution five years early in a pamphlet nobody read.

What do you do when a voice in your head orders you to write, the verse is catastrophic, and the Queen's polite rejection reads, to you, like a coronation?

In 1841 a celebrated English poet walked out of his asylum and covered eighty miles in four days, eating grass and his own pipe tobacco, to reach a childhood sweetheart he was certain was waiting for him.

What happens when you raise a poet's daughter on pure mathematics and ban every verse from the house?

What does a man who spent four years managing pipes hear when a frog hits a pond?

She had a coffin she liked to lie in before writing each morning, to focus her mind.