April 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014
first thing, i’m gonna paint the toothbrush red. i’m gonna quit my jalopy. i’m gonna whip up a few dead horses and put them out to passion. i’m gonna wash up on some distant score. first thing, i’m gonna get the expel outta dodge. i’m gonna run like the wound. i’m gonna wash away our skins. i’m gonna blow this icicle point, first thing. first thing i’m gonna do, i’m gonna freeze dry my clown wig. i’m gonna stumble under your breath. yeah, i’m gonna make like elvis and exit the gilding. i’m gonna spit out that taste of punch, then wash my mouth out with hope. are you kidding me? first thing, i’m gonna hit the toad, i’m gonna get down to brass tracks, i’m gonna head for the thrills, if it’s the last thing i do.
While we have you...
...we need your help. Confronting the many challenges of this moment—from the medical to the economic, the social to the political—demands all the moral and deliberative clarity we can muster. While much remains uncertain, Boston Review’s responsibility to public reason is sure. That’s why you’ll never see a paywall at Boston Review. We've also gone one step further and become completely ad-free. This means you will always be able to read us without roadblocks or barriers to entry. It also means that we rely on you, our readers, for support. If you like what you read here, pledge your contribution to keep it free for everyone by making a tax-deductible donation.
April 30, 2014