The Disrepect of the Cat for the Ashes of the Dead
FlickerPiss was housebroken. Minus the occasional “accident” all kittens are prone to now and then, FlickerPiss had no problem remembering where the kitty pan was and what it was for.
The Smell of My Death
This conversation was going nowhere, and I suddenly felt a twinge of fear. Had my father possibly mentioned suicide?
The Death of a Poet
“Why aren’t you satisfied with what you are?” said God.
Unpublished Black History (The New York Times) In W. C. Handy’s Band
“A pleasant Father’s Day to our wonderful Pop. The children. June 20, 1948.”
Seen It All
“I’ve taken cocaine out of rectums, I’ve taken cocaine out of vaginas… I’ve seen everything, and everything I’ve seen!”