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Rating:
Trash - Pop Tour pt. I
Dried carcasses under the Texas sun, red lizards, fire ghosts selling fake tickets. Entering the world of the Drive-In is as easy as getting rid of a freshly shaved bible salesman.
Cannibals, washed-out shadows, visions, dreams of the dream of a vision, fused bodies/sketched bodies.
A read that requires packs and packs of half-smoked cigarettes. Lansdale doesn't create a literary world: he suffocates it.
The indiscreet opening of a suburban bookstore might go unnoticed; the reverse passage of a phosphorescent shuttle somewhat less so.
Nowhere, no place, only mirages, flashing silhouettes, skies sinking into the sea of tranquility. Who else could imagine the double dream of a sketched android?
The popcorn is on the Drive-In.
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