Why folks flick cigarillos into rain filled sink holes, with ashtrays near, is something understood? it’s to hear the fire hissing, dimming, dying by water (multiverse ironing and evening itself out). Folks who thumb noses at brown skin workers and buffalo soldiers, unmarried mail-order-grooms and inter-ethnic couples, are the one percent germ point Purell misses. Their younger years saw most those folk pop valium like popping kernels; drink, drink, drink and dodge AA hiding high-def triple X megabits in country music folders? such folk fail you, my understanding.
Michael Martin Born down south in Jackson Mississippi, Michael lived in New Orleans before settling down in California. He’s currently wrestling a beast of a novella, a chapbook, and multiple film scripts. While not dicussing protocol with his muse, you can catch his infrequent posting at his weblog.