The Poe Toaster: Three Red Roses & a Bottle of Cognac

by Mac Carey

It's been two hours since we arrived at the wrought iron fence surrounding the old cemetery of Westminster Presbyterian Church in Baltimore. We wait patiently, my friend and I, our car parked on the skeevy side of town. The only buildings that aren't boarded up are liquor stores and pawnshops, and the ladies of the night begin to make their appearance at about two in the afternoon. Oh yeah, and it's cold. Like dead of winter cold. There's a reason the only other outdoor event that has dared to pick this time for its annual ritual is the Super Bowl, an event that can be viewed f...

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