"Machinist Poet" leaps right into action with "D.H. Lawrence would've liked this man/ as much as I do, how he offs his/ blue collar when he comes home to/ drink chardonnay with me, read aloud to me, The Subterraneans until Kerouac says,/ "It was her little face I wanted to enter,"/ and then he stops reading to enter/ my face, too, with his quick tongue." In "The Eve of Destruction" the words are clean, honest: "In her kitchen/ my fiancee's daughters compare their/ 6 and 8 months along/ pregnant bellies and/ bounce them/ off each other/ again and again doing little swinging/ dance steps and giggling uncontrollably/ as I sit in the corner drinking and trying to feel/ as much/ like a bachelor/ of 37 years/ as I can." These are fine warm words by real people, people I'd love to have for neighbors.--Oberc
This review originally appeared in TapRoot Reviews #5,
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