It is clear to me that this will be yet another skull slapping book from the MudLuscious Press/Blue Square Press mega-book creators. If you’re not paying attention to what shuffles out of their hands by now, then I just, I just don’t know.
The tape recorder hissed its cursed breath, elapsed time. We burgeon many more children. Found our way through the single door, opened the single window. Took the boys to the waves. Took the girls to the garden.
Read the whole issue here, including the whole sampling of Mr. Spivey’s Black God.