All Good American Literature Is Always Interested

He Reached Up T0 Grab One And Came Down With Several, And They Kept Coming, Washing Over Him, Floating All Around Him. Never Have Tampon Strings Seemed So Beautiful As They Rolled Up And Down With The Wind, Landing On The Ground And Then Twirling And Floating Up Again, Falling And Rising And Falling And Rising.

No Reason To Be Angry. Anger Just Distracts From The All-encompassing Sadness.

I Smiled. She Smiled. I Believed The Smile.

But As For Me: I Must Ask The Wounded Man Where He Is Hurt, Because I Cannot Become The Wounded Man. The Only Wounded Man I Can Be Is Me.

Stupid Human Voices Always Ruining Everything.