There's a feminist edge to these poems, mixed with anger and understanding, which can be a dangerous combination. In "Blond-Wig Warrior" we get the blood and perfume and efficiency of a street corner whore turned into a moving weapon. "His Arm" captures a misspelled lover's name in a tattoo based on the love of pain rather than the love of another person; "Dirty Knees" kicks male sexists in their vital organs; "Penetration" grabs the physical joy of sex and leaves you feeling turned inside out... and on & on. In "These Birds," Ann starts out with "They say the San Francisco Tenderloin/ is the armpit of 'Frisco/ But I say it's the mouth"--no apologies, nor forgiveness, you know right up front where she's coming from.-o
This review originally appeared in TapRoot Reviews #4,
Contact the editor, luigi-bob drake, at Burning Press
Copyright Burning Press 1994, 1995.