HOME | DD

Description
Last Exit.

He was an extremely talented writer
but he shot himself when his work
got too real.

Out of the exit wound crawled little
hobgoblins each with its own font
some walking, some hopping
some flying others slithering across
hardwood terrorizing the left over
space of an incredibly messy house
chanting “the dead cry blood,
you ass!” in the
high pitched squeaks of stepped on kittens,

strutting and tromping this stump speech
piercing scream and you
know that house burned down
and they blamed it on a meth lab but
little hobgobs climbed up the
night sky smoke to tell their master that
all was just dandy.