The charred bones lay brittle and black, who would ever have thought they once belonged to a boy so handsome?
The Solitary Furnace
Popular Posts
-
Benjamin Blake offers up an extremely personal collection of poetry for Secret History Books . Heartbreak and loss, cigarettes smoked and... -
From Benjamin Blake and Cole Bauer, comes the new split poetry collection All the Feral Dogs of Los Angeles . Poems full of life, death, d... -
Walking the rows Of aged and sunken stone I came across a large patchwork feral cat Laying at its feet Was the still, small b... -
The monolith stood before us. It's sudden and unexpected appearance in the woodland clearing, more than a little disconcerting. -
An uncharacteristically stormy summer night Crawled in without warning Rattling the window frames And wrenching leaves from wind-whip...
-
Read 'The Night I Drank with Charles Bukowski's Ghost' in Horror Sleaze Trash .
