“Kandy got on at Gloconda, made her way to the back of the bus,
She was part Red Indian, green eyed and full of possibilities,
She hit on my tequila and spewed out her ugly story…”
Andy Faair’s writing is as filthy as the Clyde, as rough as the South Atlantic and as quick as an East End bricky. Greyhound Company Rules is a road movie, a beat poem, a travellogue across America. His forethcoming collection of short stories might be a novel. Or a conversation. We’ll find out when he gets back. He hasn’t told us when that will be. Or even where here’s gone. Just know he’s out there. Doing it.