Still shambling the streets of the city Nelson Algren defined, I am the Monster in a madhouse refined. Burma Shave.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Axman's Carnival
I wish I still had my photo of Harry standing in front of Axman Surplus in Minneapolis. His copy is still on the bulletin board in his basement. Well, Diana's basement. What a messed up place, they had huge barrels of dental equipment, Israeli gas masks, bolts and washers...and torpedoes. I'm not lying. The only thing I purchased was from a box of disemboweled Teddy Ruxpins. I lucked out, you can even hold this like a gun.
Harry and I were staying at the Midway Motel on Hammerline Boulevard, and I know how my subconscious works, so when I awoke the next morning, Harry told me I said the words "Axeman's Carnival" in my sleep. I had no reason to disbelieve him. And so I wrote a novella with the same name that I have never sent anywhere at all. I wrote this in 1994. The room at the Midway was funny in that every time we turned on the television, Mr. Rogers was on. Go figure.
Labels:
Axeman's Carnival,
Harry Fassl
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