"Hunter and I hunkered down in the kitchen, better known as the "command center," babbling ourselves silly, when I paid him a compliment concerning a smartlooking nickel-plated shotgun hanging up on a rack. Before I knew what was what, I found my hands wrapped around a rather large propane tank, and he was meticulously instructing me to duct-tape a fist-size box to the side of it. While in the process of this bizarre ritual, I inquired as to the box's contents. "Oh, yeah...that??? Uh...nitroglycerin." Panicked, I instantly and deftly heaved the cigarette I was smoking into the kitchen sink and continued the job."
"Drunk at the matinee" is a collection of candid poetry about stupid shit that we all experience from day to day.
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