A ridiculous nightmare in which I found myself back in college and attending an equally ridiculous poetry reading inspired this piece. After I wrote down the entire dream, I decided to focus solely on the poet.
The Poet
He teeters before adoring fans—swatch of skin lashed over bone; hollow cheeks support hollow eyes; hallowed lips fired with holy smokes and lubed with holy joe.
©2009 Kent Gutschke. All rights reserved.
MARTIAN DEATH RAY 