This collection of poetry started badly for me; with a rhymey ballad about the absence of a "place to ease your pain/ in the City of the Rain." The next poem concerned a rain that made the poet want to scream (his description) because it "was my loneliness and disenchantment." But then came some highly effective barroom slices of life in the bitter-sweet Bukowski mode that redeemed the book.--Bob Grumman
This review originally appeared in TapRoot Reviews #5,
Contact the editor, luigi-bob drake, at Burning Press
Copyright Burning Press 1994, 1996.