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A Book I Can Put DownI’m halfway throughand I’ve gotten usedto the way it wantsto be read. This writerwants to spoon it up,wants to watch meswallow it. This writermakes a point of gooddeeds, clean living,god and country,when what I wantis sin and shame,the rusty metal edgeof cruelty, varietiesof pain, his motherstill crying years later,just like mine. I wanta writer who’s given upon the moral of the story,one who’ll hand mea knife and sit backto see what I do wi
