Local Asshole Now Local Asshole With Blog: The Twisted Brain Wrong of a One-Off Man-Mental
Sunday, August 10, 2008
I was dreamt by no white man’s god. I sat bone-dry through Noah’s flood. Here your Christ could rise from the dead to only buzzards above his head and an afterlife he’d quickly trade for a waterhole by a tree in the shade. Inside my mirage of heat I do not speak: I hallucinate inside your skull. For I am mute. My heart is stone. I bleed stone blood.