She came up to me in the parking lot behind the Slung Rig after the show. The lot reeked of piss, puke, and exiled pizza scraps. Even the rats were too finicky to troll around this Hamden hole, where headbangers and punkers partied or balled inside their cars whenever there was a gig. Those who could get it on around this stench had a better constitution than me—that, or some sort of mutant fetish, but hell, that’s mutants for you . . .
Tag: Ray Van Horn Jr.
Featured: Black Interest
- Party: A Mystery
- Game World
- Revolutionary Threads: Rastafari, Social Justice, and Cooperative Economics
- Haiti Noir
- A History of the African-American People (Proposed) by Strom Thurmond, as told to Percival Everett & James Kincaid (A Novel)
- Eight New-Generation African Poets: A Chapbook Box Set
- Among the Bloodpeople: Politics & Flesh
- Sale Amiri Baraka 3-for-1 Sale!
- Hadriana in All My Dreams
- Bandits & Bibles: Convict Literature in Nineteenth-Century America
- Globetrotter & Hitler’s Children