Driving this winding country road I half expect that when I get past the next curve in the woods and enter a clearing I’ll see Godzilla, towering over the horizon, his eyes blazing, flames shooting out from between his jagged-tooth jaws as he destroys a pretty red barn and a quaint little farmhouse with one […]

via Listening to Prince Outside Berryville, Virginia and the Last Poem I’ll Ever Write About Godzilla — Shenandoah Breakdown


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