Staying Alive Was What We Did To

And Still The Brain Continues To Yearn, Continues To Burn, Foolishly, With Desire. My Old Man's Brain Is Mocked By A Body That Still Longs To Stretch In The Sun And Form A Beautiful Shape In Someone Else's Gaze, To Lie Under A Blue Sky And Dream Of Helpless, Selfless Love, To Behold Itself, Illuminated, In The Golden Light Of Another's Eyes.

If There Was Ever A More Perfect Day In The History Of Time It Isn't One I've Heard About.

But All I Could Think Was In New York That Kid Would Have Been Stuck In A Straitjacket Practically From Birth And Dangled Over A Tank Full Of Educational Consultants And Remedial Experts All Snapping At His Ankles For The Next Twenty Years Arguing About His Special Needs And Getting Paid Plenty For It.

Your Writing Voice Is The Deepest Possible Reflection Of Who You Are. The Job Of Your Voice Is Not To Seduce Or Flatter Or Make Well-shaped Sentences. In Your Voice, Your Readers Should Be Able To Hear The Contents Of Your Mind, Your Heart, Your Soul.

While Working In Advertising, I Channelled My Creative Energy Into Elaborate Escape Fantasies: Cake Making, Dog Breeding, The Peace Corps.