The Bermuda Triangle Of Pullman Drive people disappear and you can't help but wonder about them around here there was the one my roommate dubbed "The Mad Conductor" due to his constant gesturing and occasional screaming as he walked the streets day and night and then that long-haired dude in the big straw hat who if you encountered him would never speak or make eye contact but would step off the sidewalk into the street and stand still as a lamppost until you'd passed and finally the stooped old man who’d shuffle by every day on his way to the corner store he’d stand in the alley behind our house drink his daily ration from a brown paper bag then piss on the fence before shuffling off to wherever he came from to wherever old men like him wind up Brian Rihlmann lives and writes in Reno, Nevada. His poetry has appeared in many magazines, including The Rye Whiskey Review, Fearless, Heroin Love Songs, Chiron Review and The Main Street R...
Like the title says.