It Takes A Year, Nephew... A Full

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.

A Spinning Coin, Still Balanced On Its Rim, May Fall In Either Direction.

Ordinary Parties, He Thought, Were Subtle Games Of Sexual And Social Badminton.

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.

Develop Craftsmanship Through Years Of Wide Reading.