Welcome to the madness, the mind, the malleable malevolent reality framework that spits from the brain case known as Bill Snider – occasionally, and in some odd social circles, also known as: Zombie Zak.
He’s mad with words, and glib with vowels and metastatistical metaphors, too. A new book he’s got, ready and raring to go in September, that’s true. A title, as always befits a new book, lengthy and hopefully with enough of a hook, to catch little Johnny or Bobbie Sue, as they’re messing about, trying to figure out just what to do. They could play in the sandbox, they could play in the shade, or they could just go and get a copy of something fun to read!
Something to read, like, “Separate and Succinct, Disparate and Distinct” by Bill Snider. It’s a book full of poetry, odd and at times odder. Chock full of Monsters, Madness, Mayhem and More … it’s a little bit of poetry that’ll open .. what the hell is behind that door? It’s his second book of poetry, and more disturbing than previously known, exactly where did those aliens get grown?
Published by Bellire Press ( http://belfirepress.com/ ) and available in September at all fine establishments that purvey books in todays economic machine based monomaniacal monocular mass-ingesticide of mayhem and murky idioms.
And, what the heck: Come to Fan Expo in Toronto at the end of August 2014 – you will be able to catch a sliver of his insanity; it brews constantly from the vat that is attached to a quantum vortex that lives right beside his ear. Have no fear, for the Darkness is always near, shadows abound in the eyes, as truth wanders aimlessly, falling to the ground. If you bring him a cookie, he will be your friend – take it from one who knows.
There’s a crystal lattice of song, slavering in my mind;
It’s lyrics are dry, splattery, deadly and a little unkind.
The words are tied up, insinuating themselves devilishly
Terror explodes and throws unclean scenes deceptively.
A mysterious plan of wanton dismay,
A calico cat of demonic ballet
Thrice damned be he that cast that stone
Those shadowy glances from the field alone.
There will be pain
There will be blood
There will be the reckoning at the end of time
There will be thoughts unbound
There will be a new book from ZZ.
It’s poetry, b!tch!