Another round I’m drinking with Edgar while Baudelaire claws the turf and howls outside. Poe is a lot drunker than he should be…a cheap date, a ‘lightweight’ even. “You know that Lowell wrote that I am only two- fifth’s genius?”, he stutters. “So fucking what!”, I reply, Look what you did to that guy outContinue reading “VOICES FROM THE FIRE: S.A. Gerber”
