Picnics and Postcards…(not for the squeamish)

Southern Trees bear strange fruit, Blood on the leaves and Blood at the roots. Black bodies swingin’ in the southern breeze. Strange fruit hangin’ from the poplar trees. Pastoral scene of the gallant South... The bulging eyes, and the twisted mouth. Scent of magnolia, clean and fresh. Then the sudden smell, of burnin' flesh. Here... Continue Reading →

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