When my beast arrived, it was three in the afternoon and I was sitting in my underwear, on the phone. I was reading a poem I had just written about a 21st century cowboy sitting naked next to a campfire, to my friend Peanuts, who was somewhat of a cowboy himself and used to edit a literary journal called Erotic Dust which I have never seen but like all journals you’ve never seen, you’ve heard good things...

Peanuts and The Amazing Gro-Beast

Chris Bower

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