Rather then memorialize him in the standard hero form, his wife requested (or René himself requested, or possibly both) that he be shown as “not a standard figure but a life-size skeleton with strips of dried skin flapping over a hollow carcass, whose right hand clutches at the empty rib cag




"Drunk at the matinee" is a collection of candid poetry about stupid shit that we all experience from day to day.




No comments:
Post a Comment