For all you squares and rube machines out there who just can't dig any of the poetry I've been posting up here, because you don't understand why lines of words end suddenly, I have a treat for you. That's right, I have a short story up at the Absent Willow Review called A Taste of the Grave. It's replete with magic, death, and the fantastical. I suppose one might call it suburban Gothic. Anyway, read away my readers. Wednesday, February 16, 2011
A Taste of the Grave
For all you squares and rube machines out there who just can't dig any of the poetry I've been posting up here, because you don't understand why lines of words end suddenly, I have a treat for you. That's right, I have a short story up at the Absent Willow Review called A Taste of the Grave. It's replete with magic, death, and the fantastical. I suppose one might call it suburban Gothic. Anyway, read away my readers. 
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