When Steven Day was a boy in early grade school, he wrote a poem: When I went a fishing, The waves were a swishing. I threw out my hook, While my father read a book. I felt a great tug, Much too big for a bug. I said get the pail, I got me a whale. Thus was his literary destiny written into the stars. He became a lawyer. Actually, a fairly successful one. But every lawyer wants to be a novelist. And so, years later, he wrote “The Patriot’s Grill.” Sadly, it contains no poetry.