#IV of "The Beatitudes of Malibu" by Rowan Ricardo Phillips, finally answers the question... "What the hell really happened that time out on the highway, when Mel Gibson was ranting to the cops." I really wished a newscaster would have just said this, and then we could have all said..."Oh, I get it ...
t their best, Ryan's poems are gem-like, with astounding observations that give a brilliant little flash as you examine them: Oh! At worst, they are doggerel, sing-songly little nothings with no point beyond description (in the manner of giraffe...carafe, though that isn't actually one of her rhymes...
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