"LAST EXIT TO BROOKLYN", Hubert Selby, Jr.
every word drips with honey ready to be lapped up by the soul. the cruel truths and raw energy that lurks at the corner of every page there for the taking ...take it in.
"and through a rip in the black shade she saw dancing points of gray and soon light would streak the sky and shadows would soften and dance and the soft early morning light would seep through the room pushing the shadows from the now darkened corners and candles soon would be out.....
and the Bird was blowing a final chorus, high, and the set wouldnt end, but the Bird would slowly fade and you would hang and roll in your ear and all would be love-"
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I'm actually reading it right now well not at the moment but you know what I mean
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