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i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
i dated this guy's son
I have been on a bit of a Millar binge these past few months in which I have read all 3 of his collections. Fortune is the second and, appropriately, I would rank it between Blue Rust, which didn't really grab me, and Overtime, which knocked my socks off. Sometimes fortune favors us, and sometimes it doesn't: in this book, we see some of both sides, but more of the unfavorable. Decay is a constant theme of these poems, and dealing with the looming specter of death. Towns, or buildings, are often...