I Think It's Important To

If A Piece Of Knotted String Can Unleash The Wind, And If A Drowned Man Can Awaken, Then I Believe A Broken Man Can Heal.

But The Only Rhyme He Could Summon For 'out' Was 'sauerkraut,' Which Lacked Poetic Glory. He Let It Go. The Right Line Would Come In Time. That Was The Thing About Poetry. It Crept Up Through The Draws And Coulees Of The Brain.

I Rarely Use The Internet For Research, As I Find The Process Cumbersome And Detestable. The Information Gained Is Often Untrustworthy And Couched In Execrable Prose. It Is Unpleasant To Sit In Front Of A Twitching Screen Suffering Assault By Virus, Power Outage, Sluggish Searches, System Crashes And The Lack Of Direct Human Discourse.

There Was Some Open Space Between What He Knew And What He Tried To Believe, But Nothing Could Be Done About It, And If You Can't Fix It You've Got To Stand It.

And It May Be That Love Sometimes Occurs Without Pain Or Misery.