In the not-so-gentle hands of Dan Fante, poetry is more akin to surgery or the body shop than to the techniques of music and painting. Fante excises whole slices of life and lays them bare for us to inspect. Pain and self-mocking humor are the writer’s tools here. He pries open and exposes his heart with the kindness of a hammer or crowbar. Indeed, what could be more ego-sizing than to have all pretense flattened, laying bare the raw self underneath?

“Like Bukowski . . . Fante is an authentic literary
outlaw.”
     —John Wranovics, New York Times Book Review

Trade Paperback, 120 pages —$14.95
6" x 9" — ISBN 9780941543477

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