SAM. "When I was nine, I told Dad that I was afraid of the monster under my bed. He gave me a forty-five!"
HINES. “That’s terrible! …a .45 has way too much kick for a nine-year-old.”
I've been busy with some other things, so this took a while, but it's now official: if you are so inclined, you can now buy my book. It's a…
Well, this is it. I have now officially written a poem every day for a year. I started January 9, 2009, and January 8, 2010, makes the…
There are happies, ever after, but little mermaids turn to foam; the gravest hearts give way to laughter, some cats turn king, and don't come home.…