Nobody Sounds Good Writing About Your Divorce,

Most Great Writers Suffer And Have No Idea How Good They Are. Most Bad Writers Are Very Confident. Be Willing To Be A Child And Be The Lilliputian In The World Of Gulliver, The Bat Girl In Yankee Stadium. That’s A More Fruitful Way To Be.

The Lesson You've Got To Learn Is The Someday You'll Someday Stagger To, Blinking In Cold Light, All Tears Shed, Ready To Poke Your Bovine Head In The Yoke They've Shaped. Everyone Learns This. Born, Everyone Breathes, Pays Tax, Plants Dead And Hurts Galore. There's Grief Enough For Each. My Mother Learned By Moving Man To Man, Outlived Them All. The Parched Earth's Bare (once She Leaves It) Of Any Who Watched The Instants I Trod It. Other Than Myself, Of Course. I've Made A Study Of Bearing And Forbearance. Everyone Does, It Turns Out, And Note Those Faces Passing By: Not One's A God.

There's A Space At The Bottom Of An Exhale, A Little Hitch Between Taking In And Letting Out That's A Perfect Zero You Can Go Into. There's A Rest Point Between The Heart Muscle's Close And Open - An Instant Of Keenest Living When You're Momentarily Dead. You Can Rest There.

Ninety Percent Of What's Wrong With You Could Be Cured With A Hot Bath, Says God From The Bowels Of The Subway. But We Want Magic, To Win The Lottery We Never Bought A Ticket For.

Sure The World Breeds Monsters, But Kindness Grows Just As Wild.