School Year 1989-1990
Berlin St. Croix and the Boring Summer
I got so bored that summer that I submitted some poetry to magazines, in character as Berlin St. Croix:
Dear Editor:
Accept my poetry — or DIE!!!! I don't take rejection well, and I have a pair of rabid lemmings with your name on 'em! By the way, my name is Berlin St. Croix, but I prefer to be known as Black Death!!
I'm an artist, and I suffer for my work... sometimes I even listen to "La Bamba" for three hours straight, just to torture myself.
I have a thumbtack collection, and I store it on the walls, pushed into the cockroaches.
Thank you for your time. I'm enclosing a pint of my own pus.
Black Death
A copy of this letter no doubt resides in an FBI file somewhere, along
with Wayne Newton's ill-fated gangsta rap album and the unexpurgated
version of Olsen's Standard Book of British Birds.
