The last time I remember was along mud-sand walls, buff, sizzling tink-tink-tink not too fast, they can’t shoot for sour batshit, I ran, bowing under the weight boots tight, mags full hands sweated onto parkerized dust “C’mon, Joey!” and he laughed that way like a kid, immortally cheerful, fantasy blue-eyed love doll to the Kurds … [more]
No justice, no poets. Know one here but just us…
13-May-2010 by 4 Comments
Nobody expects to make a pile of money on poetry. Poets — with their beady-eyed look at the dusty, abandoned corners of society’s soul — are largely ignored in our Costco conehead (“consume mass quantities!”) world.
"Jack Lewis takes the overall literary crown with his new book...there’s a lot more to Lewis’s work than what it feels like to ride motorcycles.” — Ultimate Motorcycling
"Insightful and from the heart ... a driven and much recommended look into the mind and conflict of the next generation of war veterans. " — Midwest Book Review (Reviewer's Choice)