Sing

     Though there's nothing new under the sun

     still, I'll sing

     just as the original dreamer 

     told me to do

     Though there's no place like home

     still, I'll hold hands with a rusty man 

     and go nowhere with him

     if he longs to sing

     that's nothing new

     Though I'm beyond saving

     still, I will not be quiet

     or save my breath

     or be less

     

     Though the doors do not open

     though I stand here 

     in a wild fury

     knowing you are no longer within

     still, I'll sing

Hungry

     It isn’t funny 
     You don’t belong in the house

     Don’t get comfortable

     What do they feed you?

     Envy’s leaves and sorrow’s root?

     Rancor’s meager blood?

     Here’s a true feast then

     Whole heart, witnessing eyes

     Open throat, love's sighs

     What are you craving?

     My fresh tears in a teaspoon?

     Why are you dying?

     Hungry old dreamer

     Darken my door again and

     I’ll make you suffer

Arthur

Hi    It matters because   error is anathema to me--yea a veritable abomination--to wax biblical.

We should strive for correctness---else  sloppy thinking will prevail and lead to bad habits, not easily corrected.

There, that's my diatribe

Cheers    arthur