There Is A Reason God Limits Man's

Chicago Keeps Getting All These Complete Games. Im Expecting 50 Cent Hot Dogs.

Nobody's Favorite Movie Is Some Dark, Dysfunctional Slasher Story. Everybody's Favorite Song Is A Sentimental Song. So Why All Of A Sudden Is It Bad To Be Sentimental In Books?

You'll Come To My Grave? To Tell Me Your Problems?" My Problems? "yes.' And You'll Give Me Answers? "i'll Give You What I Can. Don't I Always?" I Picture His Grave, On The Hill, Overlooking The Pond, Some Little Nine Foot Piece Of Earth Where They Will Place Him, Cover Him With Dirt, Put A Stone On Top. Maybe In A Few Weeks? Maybe In A Few Days? I See Myself Sitting There Alone, Arms Across My Knees, Staring Into Space. It Won't Be The Same, I Say, Not Being Able To Hear You Talk. "ah, Talk . . . " He Closes His Eyes And Smiles. "tell You What. After I'm Dead, You Talk. And I'll Listen.

I Always Look For A "rhythm" In My Writing. A Cadence To The Sentences. Sometimes I Think Of Pieces I Write In A Song Writing Infrastructure - I.e., A Verse, A Chorus That I Return To, A Bridge That's Something Differenct, A Chorus That I Return To.

War Could Bond Men Like A Magnet, But Like A Magnet It Could Repel Them, Too. The Things They Saw, The Things They Did. Sometimes They Just Wanted To Forget.