Life then bounces through a soiled hallway
A repeated joke at the end of the table
That gathers more and more laughs
With every drink
A repeated joke at the end of the table
That gathers more and more laughs
With every drink
My style is like bad musical composition. -Ludwig Wittgenstein
posted by Peter Golub at 10:40 PM
Peter Golub is a writer whose work has not appeared in Conjunctions, Poetry, Chicago Review, Granta, or The Paris Review. He has received letters of rejection from The New Yorker, The Atlantic Monthly, or Harper's. All his books are unpublished, except for a little pamphlet concerning his own death and none have been nominated for a Pushcart let alone a National Book Award or a Pulitzer. He does not live in New York City.