Showing posts with label
Poppy Z. Brite
.
Show all posts
Showing posts with label
Poppy Z. Brite
.
Show all posts
Poppy Z. Brite: System Freeze
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Plodding toward the summit of Everest, high above Camp Three where every step felt like a life's work and every breath made her pray s...
Poppy Z. Brite: Wandering the Borderlands
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I have worked with dead bodies for most of my life. I’ve been a morgue assistant, a medical student, and for one terrible summer, a mem...
Poppy Z. Brite: Mussolini And The Axeman's Jazz
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SARAJEVO, I9I4 TONE TURRETS AND crenelated columns loomed on either side of the Archduke's motorcade. The crowd parted before t...
Poppy Z. Brite: Optional Music For Voice And Piano
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When the hand snaked out and dragged him into the alley, the boy’s only emotion was a sick sense of I-told-you-so. He’d known he could...
Poppy Z. Brite: A Taste of Blood and Altars
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In the spring, families in the suburbs of New Orleans--Metarie, Jefferson, Lafayette--hang wreaths on their front doors. Gay purple s...
Poppy Z. Brite: Oh Death, where is thy spatula ?
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The main thing you need to know about me is that I love eating more than anything else in the world. More than sex, more than trop...
Poppy Z. Brite: Burn, Baby, Burn
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The girl waits by the side of the road, just past Lolita age but obviously still jail-bait. She wears a pair of ragged denim cutoffs a...
Poppy Z. Brite: Self-Made Man
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part 1 Justin had read Dandelion Wine seventeen times now, but he still hated to see it end. He always hated endings. He tur...
Poppy Z. Brite: Calcutta, Lord Of Nerves
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I was born in a North Calcutta hospital in the heart of an Indian midnight just before the beginning of the monsoon season. The air hun...
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