"Fuck that James Dean shit..."

Lots of stuff to report but first-off the excellent Bookmunch is hosting a review of mine on Brutalist primo Tony O'Neill's poetry collection Songs from the Shooting Gallery amongst other eye-feasts.

"...the cerebral mechanics of a man laid out, the doubts, the fears, the whole tangled internal dialogue that’ll drive you mad; Whitman’s “I contain multitudes” in a busted up motel room, Hobbesian social philosophy in a crack den at five in the morning..."