On Black Gum by J. David Osborne

Motherfuckers, you know wizards don’t look like that anymore. Pointy hat. Patriarchal beard blowing in a breeze of elf farts. No. Not anymore. They look like that fucked up weirdo down the street that is staring at the light too long one night and you feel something tug at the center of your chest and hope its just longing or pity. They look like someone that’s seen too much, lived to tell, told the tale and had people stop listening so they just stop talking and all that telling just starts coming out of their skin. Crazy shit for a crazy world and the wise men don’t look like scarecrows anymore.

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