It's True That I Don't Rearrange That

I Am Closer To The Pacifist Side, In That I Think That The British Response To German Aggression, Which Was To Try To Starve The Continent Into A State Of Revolt And To Terrorize German Civilians With Bombing Raids, Was Part Of The Total Catastrophe.

Each Decision - To Kill, To Sign A Petition, To Write A Letter, To Make A Speech, To Attack, To Lie, To Surrender - Was Made At Some Point In Somebody's Day.

When I Really Want To Be Soothed And Reminded Of Why People Bother To Fiddle With Sentences, I Often Read Poetry.

Perforation! Shout It Out! The Deliberate Punctuated Weakening Of Paper And Cardboard So That It Will Tear Along An Intended Path, Leaving A Row Of Fine-haired Pills Or Tuftlets On Each New Edge! It Is A Staggering Conception, Showing An Age-transforming Feel For The Unique Properties Of Pulped Wood Fiber.

So What Rhyming Poems Do Is They Take All These Nearby Sound Curves And Remind You That They First Existed That Way In Your Brain. Before They Meant Something Specific, They Had A Shape And A Way Of Being Said. And Now, Yes, Gloom And Broom Are Floating Fifty Miles Away From Each Other In You Mind Because They Refer To Different Notions, But They're Cheek-by-jowl As Far As Your Tongue Is Concerned. And That's What A Poem Does. Poems Match Sounds Up The Way You Matched Them When You Were A Tiny Kid, Using That Detachable Front Phoneme.