Frankness and imagination illuminate travels through daily mundanity in this debut collection by Kelly Sexton. Whether speaking through a household pet, a tiresome drunk, peer-review groups, or herself, the hopeful sarcasm of this book relates profoundly through gritty hand-wrung lines to those attempting survival in post-capitalist times.

Example:

stop whistling, it’s making me nauseous

let’s play pool at another bar

i prefer to lose in unfamiliar surroundings

you will be smothered over

suburban excrement

on converse shoes

charcoal lines thrown on paper

to mimic your perfect form waiting

at the foot of the door without shoes

never begging for admittance

a chaotic ear with angular impatience

bar drivel and the lost moments i beg for

my humanity is as flawed

as your sense of humor

my ability to accept as wounded as your ego

rid the self of the judgment

you call intuition

lay down