 I seem to hear sweet nature's music and the songs of man. For I have learned from fancy's artisan how written words can throw the inner ear, trust as they move the heart. And so for me, words also seem to ring out loud and free. In silent study, I have learned to tell each sacred shade of meaning and to hear a magic harmony at once sincere that somehow notes the tinkle of a bow, the cluing of a dove of lead, put a powder on the eave, the love of sigh and drumming of guitar, and if I fool the raffle of a star. That's him. But his interest in poetry is for the visual or the idea rather than the sounds. There's no sound involved there. Purely picture and idea. Well, 20th century poetry is mostly picture and idea. So modern poetry, especially after Ezra Pound and William Carlos Williams and the imagist poets, should be the best or is almost specifically tailored for those who are deaf. Pound pointed out that poetry had three different aspects for him. One was sound, melopia, that one was the dance of the intellect among the words, the wittiness or the sophistication or the strangeness of funny words being put together like the phrase Nazi milk. But the other was the pure picture aspect. The third was the pure picture aspect, the casting of a picture on the mind's eye. Ever since their work, the reason we've gone into a lot of free verse, different from the kind that Bob likes, has been the emphasis on the picture aspect. And especially in the 20th century, there has been a lot of translation from many languages into English and from English into many languages. And the poetry that translates the best is the poetry that has pictures in it. It does not depend on the sound. It doesn't depend on the rhymes, but just depends on the pure picture. So there's been more and more of a tendency to develop an international poetry style, which is free verse that is open verse that doesn't have a recurrent mirror and doesn't have a recurrent rhyme, but has harder and harder, clearer and clearer pictures. Who sat all night in submarine light of Bickford's cafeteria, flooded out on the street, and sat through this dale beer afternoon in desolate beer bars, listening to the crack of doom on the hydrogen jukebox. So what is a hydrogen jukebox in sign language? A hydrogen jukebox. Of course, that refers to a sound thing, the jukebox anyway, is that a jukebox is a mechanical record machine in the bars. Just stand up for why would you say we're hydrogen? Oh, the hydrogen, the hydrogen bomb. The noise of the jukebox is apocalyptic. So the emergence of that kind of rock and roll and that kind of heavy noise is almost like the beginning of the explosion of the end of the world. Hydrogen jukebox. But it does depend on, it's a very abstract one. It's two concrete things. There's a jukebox, and then there's hydrogen. Hydrogen is real and a jukebox is real. And when you put them together, it makes an unusual kind of jukebox. Yes, but if I had to sign without thinking of the English words, I would make some kind of compound. There'd be several signs that you could use to explain the picture that I might get from those two words. But what I'm wondering is once it is explained, does any kind of interesting sparkle come through with that combination? Or does that go dead in translation? At least in translation. Let me try. I don't know if it's what you want. That looks like it. That looks like it. That looks like it.