Despite being born in Sin City, I was raised on I-95, traveling and living in all the states between the Mason Dixon Line and the Florida Everglades, always finding home in a North Carolinian sleepy, coastal town.
We laid silent, sweat-stained skin pressed against the others as we listened to the
rain fall above our whirling heads. Upon my grand exit, my love-struck eyes were
greeted by the sight of the yellow-Cheshire moon hanging over the dew-rinsed
meadow. Always such a beautiful sight to end our love-crazed nights; I stood in awe
of the passion of the evening. Mesmerized by its beauty, I almost missed the sound
the gun made. I turned as the pain struck my back to see blond hair in a tangled
twirl; my last earthly memory, the moon’s grin upon my sinful ways.
You’ll find the statements at the forefront of the “writing”, be it poetry, short story, flash fiction or essay. These statements are the heart and soul of the Dead Mule. Enjoy! They are the Southern Legitimacy Statements required of every contributor.
We’re slowly editing the writing, some of the text is still fubarred but don’t let that stop you from reading. We have 20 years of database entries to recover — this Mule is worth the effort. We hope you’ll agree it is worth the wait.