They Write Them Long Because They Can't

When The Plot Flags, Bring In A Man With A Gun.

I Was As Hollow And Empty As The Spaces Between Stars.

To Say Goodbye Is To Die A Little.

There Was A Sad Fellow Over On A Bar Stool Talking To The Bartender, Who Was Polishing A Glass And Listening With That Plastic Smile People Wear When They Are Trying Not To Scream.

It Is Not A Fragrant World.