NO FRILLS. A SON OF SALEM. A SON OF SPLEEN. NYC IS THE CARCASS OF A DECAPITATED VAMPIRE. GATE THIS CITY IN & LET ME DO MY JOB. A SMEAR OF NIGHT. ANY NIGHT. EVERY NIGHT. A BLACK OCEAN BECKONS.
A tale of violence, mental illness, hallucination, and internal terror turned outward.
"I'd be remiss not to blood, and lots of it, redolent of metallic sick and carbonated honey organs, casted in synthetic tree flesh, a curse preserved and circulated. If we agree with the author that this book is a work of, "slasher worship," then we must also agree that it's an apt and ample offering to the pantheon of American gods and godesses, to the slasher-gorgons living rent-free in the bowels of our collective psyche." (from the book's foreword, written by Logan Berry -- author of (Run-Off Sugar) Crystal Lake [11:11] and Transmissions to Artaud [Self-Fck].
spawned from effluvium misting erratic spinal cracks, I wonder if you hazard trazodone nightmares. i am far from babylon but there is meat in every virtually coded locker. blood transcends permanent liberties. "EVERYTHING IS FIXED IN TIME. FIX YOU TOO. FIX YOU TOO."
A long form poem from the perspective of a slasher/killer. Sometimes seems like ramblings of a madman, sometimes seems like well calculated nuggets of poetic evil. What really makes this great however is it's presentation. Every page is designed to give a hallucinatory feeling with different backgrounds and different fonts in different sizes and styles, like seeing the words planet earth written as a death metal logo. It's like a living breathing work of art.