Tag Archives: Thomas Lux

like a downhill brakes-burned freight train

Posted on December 17, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

AND STILL IT COMES Thomas Lux like a downhill brakes-burned freight train full of pig iron ingots, full of lead life-size statues of Richard Nixon, like an avalanche of smoke and black fog lashed by bent pins, the broken-off tips … Continue reading →

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Mail Them Packages of Rats

Posted on February 21, 2020 by Brian D. Butler

THE PEOPLE OF THE OTHER VILLAGE Thomas Lux hate the people of this village and would nail our hats to our heads for refusing in their presence to remove them or staple our hands to our foreheads for refusing to … Continue reading →

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