Book Reviews  by Ralph Haselmann Jr.
Lucid Moon Poetry Magazine Issue #37 (Sept/Oct/Nov/Dec 1999)

Abstractions In The Dust: Poetry chapbook by Michael Sean Conway. 24 pages, $2 cash, check or m.o. to Robert L. Penick, Ed., Chance Press, 3929 S. Fifth St., Louisville, KY 40214-1658 or Michael Sean Conway, P.O. Box 433330, San Ysidro, CA 92143-3330. Heartfelt poetry burning with passion, a world-weariness and a sense of resignation, yet hope that exists in the possibilities of love. Never Hope To Explain reads : "They often ask, "how can you two be getting married when she doesn't speak English and you can't speak Espanol?" I try to explain about love beyond tongues; I tell em how we go slow with the use of a dictionary. Most people can't understand, but I can't understand most people. They've forgotten about love." Modern Madness reads: "The modern poet is one who watches everything he has come to know and love, destroyed by madness. Then he pokes around in the apocalyptic pile, building beautiful shrines out of bones." The last poem is the most touching, I Feel I Should Light A Candle: "Pops left when we were still kids, a 'gone' he never came back from. It's the same, now Ma has Alzheimer's. She's not coming back." A fine production, worth checking out, at a very inexpensive price.

A Journey Up The Coast: Mini poetry travelogue chapbook by R.D. Armstrong. 48 pages, $5 cash, check or m.o. to R. D. Armstrong, editor, Lummox Press, P.O. Box 5301 San Pedro, CA 90733-5301. Part of the charming Little Red Books series, this recent mini-chapbook chronicles Armstrong's road trip up the California Coast, from the Los Angeles area to the San Francisco area and back, in diary-like chapters with cities as chapter headings/titles. One Oh One reads: "Then it's the rush to merge the mad race of the city. Sudden and surprising The City (old hippie name) rises up through cracked concrete--as if by magic--and compels me to face it on its own terms play by its rules. But is this really SanFran or just more development? Could be part of L.A. easy Then the towers rising out of trees as green as the eyes of envy the reddish-orange towers of The Golden Gate a visual password as familiar as Hewell Houser confirms that this is definitely The City." R. D. Armstrong, or Raindog, as he is known to friends, takes a spiritual journey as well as he takes in the scope and beauty of the land, the beautiful land that is California. I felt as though I was seeing the landscape through Raindog's eyes, that I was making the journey myself. A fine book and a good page-turner, part of a charming Little Red Books series. Collect em all for a mere pittance!

A Night At The O'Aces: Mini poetry chapbook by Nathan Graziano. Pick Pocket Poets No. 5, 24 pages, $1 to Phony Lid Publications, P.O. Box 2153, Rosemead, CA 91770. A charming little poetry chap with poems about, well, drinking, smoking and fucking! Nate has a nice eye for detail and often makes the wry observation or comment that saves the poem from being just another poem about drinking, smoking and fucking. Particularly funny was Just Like Biology Class, which reads: "I watched you tonight sitting at the bar with your new boyfriend, sipping your drinks and laughing out loud. I thought of biology class, and the one day we watched two insects fight to death inside an aquarium, the larger one devoured the other insect and gnawed on it's torso. But I guess it's always been that way between us." Particularly fine is the title poem, which paints a scene of rednecks and Thelma and Louise clones in Vegas honkytonk bars, and how they mute the television of the President talking about the tragedy in Kosovo to turn up the jukebox with Bruce Springsteen playing! How utterly middle America, how sad we have held up a mirror to ourselves! This is a charming collection of amusing short poems, part of a series of Pick Pocket Poets. Although the characters are finely drawn and the observations damn on the spot funny, one hopes Nate will in time explore other themes besides, well, drinking, smoking and fucking! Excellent series at a bargain basement price.

Armageddon's Garden by Jerry Gordon/Between Genesis and 666: by Robert Roden (with artwork by Matt Puentes) Double poetry chapbook. 32 pages, $4 check or m.o. to Aphasia Press, P.O. Box 1626, Orange, CA 92856. A beautiful collection of finely wrought heartfelt poetry that looks towards armegeddon, the day we will be no more. The poems are tinged with a foreboding sense of beauty, disease and desire. With haunting artwork by Matt Puentes that perfectly compliments the poetry. All the titles begin with the letter "A", and the two authors face each other on each page. An Ascetic, by Robert Roden, reads: "I have watched women getting into cars, leaving me when I was still hungry. I have seen them on their way when I had no sdesire for their waxed legs and soft palpable pumps that I would bite into, leaving them cold despite the wet warmth trickling between their breasts--the tingle of a sting which they would barely be aware of until parking their exhausted vehicles on their flooded front lawns. I have watched little boys running through sprinklers with no intent to kill, and then I have seen a grown man in my mirror." Aroma by Jerry Gordon reads: " Your heart is the countertop and storehouse of God. The invenntory is one-an endless one-and it passes through you. How could it not? Your heart beats and the grapes swell with sweetness and the casks creak with the scent of wine." A fine collection of tasteful yet bittersweet poetry worth checking out.

The Darkness Starts Up Where You Stand: Novel by Arthur Winfield Knight. 102 pages. $10 check made out to Depth Charge, P.O. Box 7037, Evanston, IL 60201-7037. A raw, visceral poetic novel of rare beauty, evocative of dashed hopes and lost dreams., set during the late 1960's. Christine loses her husband Monroe in The Vietnam War, and her anger and shattered psyche bleed through each page. She drifts in and out of thought and reality, dreaming of her past as a child, time spent with her late husband, and her days in college. "…Christine dreams. A small boy comes running towards her. His feet slap against the hall floor as he comes towards her, and he begins to cry as he gets closer. His face is strangely illuminated by the neon, and Christine suddenly realizes that she has seen him before in an album of old baby pictures. He has the face of Monroe at three or four. Picking him up, she runs down the long hall and out of the building. Men dressed in green and white uniforms chase after her, yelling what she imagines are obscenities. She can't tell. Running up a steep hill, she is in the country now. She is beginning to tire, carrying what seems to be dead weight, but she yells at the men who follow. "You'll never take him ." But the shouting only makes her more winded. Then she sees a bike roaring toward them; it is shaped like a tricycle, but it moves faster, and the man who powers it has the face of a maniac. The face of Death. She can hear the swish of air like a rushing scythe as the bike passes them, and this time it comes even closer. She falls exhausted by the side of the river, and she can hear the men again. When they are nearly upon her, she begins to scream--"You can't have him. You can't have him." --until she awakens at the sound of her own cries". Knight paints portraits of Christine and the other characters with a terrific eye for detail and captures the essence of the times, when our country was divided over a terrible war and colleges still had curfews for women in the dorms, guarded by stern matronly woman who acted like prison guards. It was a time of innocence still, ripe for change and rapidly changing because of the war and student demonstrations on campus. Drugs permeated the air like smoke rising up from a cigarette, and the time spent in bars only increased one's sense of loneliness and isolation. For Christine, her life is already over. "We all face loneliness and loss in our own way, Christine thought. Some got drunk every night or took drugs, and others became pathological. Possibly a few people she didn't know were alright. But it was a pathological land that sent young men to Viet Nam to fight and die." I was engrossed and caught up in her plight until the very end. The writing is at times hallucinatory, other times lucid and wry and heartfelt. I will revisit this novel often to recapture it's beauty. Highly recommended.

Fascist Haikus: mini-poetry chapbook by Charles Potts 20 pages, $2 check made out to Acid Press, 1155 E. Walnut, Pocatello, Idaho 83201 Fascist haikus is a charming little mini-chapbook of haikus and short poems that you can read in ten minutes, hence the subtitle "A Ten Poets/Ten Minutes Book". The poems are often humourous, and often do not follow the structure of a haiku, that is why they are fascist! The poem 55 Alive reads: "Having reached the age of Nixon's speed limit I feel like doing something illegal." Another humourous haiku reads: "Things are so bad I can't afford gas for my airplane." A delight to read, lightweight but enjoyable. Charles Potts' inscription to me reads: "For Ralph Haselmann Jr., back when publishing was fun & irreverant."

The Holy Bi-Bull: Monthly newsletter zine edited by John Kurluk. 8 pages, $1 cash , check or m.o. made out to John Kurluk, P.O. Box 6095, Baltimore, MD 21231. A highly amusing Wiccan/Pagan/ParanormalZodiac/Anti-Organized Religion newsletter with ads, personals, ziney information, hororscopes, moon guides, tarot calendar , herbs for sale, cartoons, and essays with tongue planted firmly in-cheek! A steal at $1, please buy this and send your donations and zine info/ads to John Boy! Incomplete Directions Spoken word poetry cd (with jazz accompaniment by Vernon Reid, Thurstom Moore and a host of prominent jazz musicians) by Steve Dalachinsky. 72+ minutes, with lyric booklet. $14 postpaid, check made out to Knitting Factory Records, 74 Leonard Street, NY, NY 10013.

Incomplete Directions: is a rich stew of spoken poetry and spare jazz accompaniment expressed in warm, gentle, muted tones that soothes the soul, like a calming Zen experience. Particularly surprising is the quiet, contemplative jazz guitar noodlings by former Living Colour lead guitarist Vernon Reid, who's rock albums I am familiar with, but not his jazz work. Throughout, poet Steve Dalachinsky makes wry observations on love and relationships, human nature and man's relation to nature. The Saxophone Factory has the wry lines "She works in a saxophone factory / she's young & pretty / all day long she sits in front of a hole punch / punching holes in ivory / she gets the blues / tho she never plays / them / she's young / her blues are on the bright side /…she's young & /pretty / her life still measured / in holes." Dalachinsky wrestles with eternal questions of who we are in several pieces throughout. My favorite piece (for the poetry) is I Dreamed I Was Van Gogh, which ends: "…I dreamed I was Van Gogh / in Brooklyn / somewhere near the lower east / side / thinking starry nights / in the pouring rain / to background music / with somewhere / the sky / boldly flatly twisting / above the solid mass of clouds / in blue and grey swirls / lighting a canvas / not yet wet / a crazy sharp space / above the false ceiling / above me / the palette being laid out / In my clean and confused / mind. / I dreamed I was Van Gogh / all wet / and sad / and / thinking // I dreamed I was Van Gogh." My favorite pieces (for the music accompaniment) are the pieces with tenor saxophonist Asssif Tsahar, especially on the piece Duets (An Excerpt) and Lament #1-Sound Drummer. Here the poetry and music really connect with cool, sharp sax riffs of and riffs of sheer poetry: Lament reads: "she walks/with her/eye like auto / shutter // selective viewing // this like a painting that / only can watch / one viewer / at a time // view finding // a painting by / an old Flemish / master / making the best of the thin / hellish / light/" The title track is about trying to find eternity, and someone gives him directions that never end, and the line is repeated over and over, double tracked to great effect. On his new cd Incomplete Directions, poet Steve Dalachinsky sort of sounds like Jack Kerouac on tranquilizers, speaking of Bodhisattva and New Jersey! Wry, thoughtful, calm and contemplative, with much spirit and soul, endlessly amusing and entertaining, this is a terrific spoken word poetry/jazz cd. I play it a lot while pasting up issues of my poetry magazine Lucid Moon. Highly recommended, every thing a first-rate poetry/jazz cd should be.

The Inside-Out World Of B. Z. Niditch (with drawings by Claudio Parentela): Mini poetry chapbook by B.Z. Niditch. 48 pages, $5 cash, check or m.o. made out to R.D.Armstrong, editor, Lummox Press,P.O. Box 5301 San Pedro, CA 90733-5301. Another charming edition of the Little Red Books series by Lummox Press, this poetry collection (with a short play included) reveals the author's fascination with the perplexing question of our existence and how we are connected to others. The longer poem Graduation paints an empathetic portrait of B.Z.'s student, Gene, who has a troubled home life. Strange Times reads: "The highway sings and the prince of this world is without sorrow the aerialist falls to earth and becomes an angel and winter gents having no obligations talk to the moon the street angel hears the devil's tune and invalids are sick of being sick the isolated poet even has a celebration of his mortality." A lovely collection of thought-provoking verse, filled with wonder at life and relationships, and man's relationship to life. Worth checking out, collect all of the Little Red Books in the series.

I Thought I Was Alive: Poetry zine by various authors, Ed. By Suzy Davidson. 24 pages, $150 check or m.o. to Pottsie Nation Enterprises, 15501 SW 42 Ave, Elendale, MN 565026. A cornucopia of voices waxing poetic on love, nature and relationships. Best are the poems by Giovanni Molito, Jim DeWitt, Jenni Burke and myself (what can I say, I'm partial to me!!). Purveying by Giovanni Malito reads: "The old woman alone on the bridge with her dark features standing with her hand held out stiff she is like a statue as a cloud crosses the sun and casts her into shadows along with me and then we understand each other." A nice sampler, with a wide range of styles, at a bargain price. Crisp clean production, worth checking out.

Long Live The Two Of Spades: Poetry book by Daniel Crocker. 64 pages, $7 check or m.o. made out to Green Bean Press, Ian Griffin, editor, P.O. Box 237, New York City, 10013. A beautiful, touching hearfelt collection of poetry, the third and last in a trilogy of similiarly titled poetry books by a masterful young poet, Daniel Crocker. The centerpiece of the book is a long stream-of-conscience poem called Molested, where the author recounts a fragmented childhood memory of sadness and innocence lost, and of hatred for the molester, a cousin. Also particularly moving is the love poem Father. All of the poems bare the gentle caress of the poet's loving touch as he shapes words into sheer poetry; his poems become his memory, his thoughts become scars he carries with him forever. Paper Anniversary reads: "Somewhere along time the first year became the paper anniversary and we should somehow write our words on that as if parched, pressed tree bark could hold them. Seems to me we started our writing on the wind, drew our words with invisible clarity to be scattered like leaves through barren lands and blue-green fields. Then we wet our fingertips a little spelling them out in cursive on river ripples erased almost as soon as we whispered them and on tidal waves ' foam coming near, moving away. Then, like artists, we etched them out into soft red clay, put work into our hands, molded them the color of our bruises, then carried them inside and called it home. Finally, we carved our words in stone letter by letter a fragment at a time we wrote them "I love you."' With Long Live The 2 Of Spades, Daniel Crocker has completed a passage in his life and begun a new journey. This book is highly reccomended, as are the two earlier collections 2 Of Spades from Alpha Beat Press and 2 Of Spades Is Dead from Angelflesh Press.

Mark Sonnenfeld/Carpentier Pascal (August 1999--A Broadside Release) and Mark Sonnenfeld/Steve Andrews (October 1999--A Broadside Release): Broadsides by Mark Sonnenfeld, with Carpentier Pascal and Steve Andrews. Write to Mark Sonnenfeld for price, availability, and a catalog. 45 -08 Old Millstone Drive, East Windsor, New Jersey 08520. A beautifully produced broadside series by Mark Sonnenfeld of MaryMark Press, with two colored sheets of paper that compliment each other, crisp clean photocopies and different fonts used throughout, which adds a ransom-note type feel to the overall look. Sonnenfeld is an experimental poet, and his work is admittedly an acquired taste, but there is a playfulness to the combination of words he comes up with. One untitled poem from the August broadside ends: "…I stop by the guy did I mention container rooms? The laughing too long been broke theatrical half-year, joe-joints by the tunnel factor blues that maybe why head back home? Songcraft the mood, tension like was a drag the summer-past those about whether it's cool, again smash me back" Carpentier Pascal is deeply influenced by Arthur Rimbaud and Jim Morrison, and his writing has a flair for visionary words and thoughts. An Haiku For The Woman's Smiles reads: "Reflexions of women smiles in the sleek glass walls of my burnin' soul in love". Steve Andrew's best poem on his broadside with Mark is titled Soldiers With Wood And String and reads: 'I was thinking about Kurt Cobain and his chances were pretty slim, and I was thinking of John Lennon 'cos I owe a lot to him; Just soldiers with guns of wood and string shot down with lack of understanding. I was thinking of Jimi Hendrix and other stars passed on, who gave their lives for music immortalized in song. I was wondering about our future in a world turned upside down, where love's a word corrupted to the sound of a weeping clown and gunfire's from the soldiers with guns of wood and string." A fine series by Mark Sonnenfeld, and his unique experimental style compliments the other more conventional poets' styles.

Nightmares, Daydreams, And Delusions Of Grandeur: Poetry chapbook with text by Jay Miner and artwork by Jeff Filipski. 10 pages, $2 cash, check or m.o. to Jay Miner, P.O. Box 1609, Douglas, AZ 85608-1609. Wacky words and crazy drawings from a pair made in Heaven (or Hell!) make this a bumpy thrill ride off the beaten path. The second "poem" (if you can call it that!) reads: "Psychosis is psyched up to go psycho to the prom with his girlfriend diverticulosis and they have every intent to get drunk and sick and slash at the principal's principles with a farm sickle finally riding to freedom on a stolen motorcycle followed by fucking under the trees and shooting heroin with the heroine while the birds drop like flies and everyone around them goes cuckoo for cocoa puffs." My favorite short piece mocks hippies, and the title is almost as long as the poem!: Retarded Conversation Between Two Retarded Hippies In The Laundromat In A Retarded Hippy Town In Southeast Arizona reads: ""Are they done yet?" "How will I know when they're done?" "When the machines stop, they will be done." "These machines don't stop, do they?" "Yes, they do." "Oh."" Wiseass but hilarious! A fun read at a low price.

Pitchfork: Poetry zine that comes out twice a year, in January and June, edited by Charles Gibson. 24 pages, $3 current issue or $2 back issues, cash, check or m.o. made out to Charles Gibson, Pitchfork Press, 2002-A Guadalupe St. 3461, Austin, TX 78705. E-mail: pitchforkpress@mindspring.com No e-mail submissions. A nicely done professionally printed new small chapbook sized poetry zine, with featured poet section. Publishes a good cross-section of small press poets. Issue #2 features Giovanni Malito, A.D. Winans, John Sweet, Kemp Gregory, J.J. Campbell, Laura Joy Lustig, Lyn Lifshin, Gary Jurechka, Kevin M. Hibshman, Nate Graziano, Harland Ristau, t. kilgore splake, B. Z. Niditch, Mark Senkus , Norman J. Olson and others. Particularly amusing was Nate Graziano's poem story about his high school friend who had an ongoing relationship with his pillow! Also great were poems by Kevin M. Hibshman and Gary Jurechka. Lyn Lifshin wears thin as usual, she seems to be in every poetry zine and magazine in the small press! Pitchfork is a fine new small press publication. Looking for very short fiction, and b&w artwork and photography.

Pitching Twisted Coins In The Corners Of Lusty Smiles: Poetry chapbook by Jeff Filipski. 16 pages, $2 cash, check or m.o. made out to Non Compos Mentis Press, 240 Thompson Ave., East Liverpool, OH 43920. A real acid trip of words colliding and splattering all over the page in wild metaphors, these poems and cover drawing by Jeff are funny, amusing and bewildering. When She Comes reads: "A sunny day a plan is born half baked yet not totally lost as poignant as sea air speckled by the sounds of useless whispers left pulsing through dark and weary nostrils of horses rearing…She was coming and that was an event there were cameras a Chinese fire drill with aces high and some rotgut near as all things bright and small dance whirlygigs on verdant ground as tired gods stand weeping over eons of humanities trivial failure…When she came the sun would shine recklessly like stainless steel reflections as unshackled laughter springs from naughty forests as moss grows from bearded clams or the fossils of our petrified minds…When she came worms would sing birds would growl hairy spiders twirled their prey like tiny orbs of burning twine spinning like tons of twisted grins…When she came things of wonder such as this where the circling of daffodils by wily buzzards drain like spawn of Leonardos beast attention… When she came worlds would spin oceans hover above planets dropping like torrid love on embers of freeze dried reality as gods skitter about like ants on smeared pheromone…When she came sorcerers doors came undone in fervent horror of the astral pleasure of her tainted smiles where evening skies screaming in waves of bleeding truth placed forth like herds of percherons proud in demeanor awesome in stature with the ominous markings of all things grand…When she came great universal fields shiver and shake like insane animals in blackened pits of fallen lovers like morbid scenes of Dante's inferno crazed with lust in brimstone clouds beseeching membraneous winged angels for spare droplets of virgin love…When she comes she comes again and again and again she comes the beauty of it is she comes with me…" A wildly amusing change of pace from ordinary poetry, check it out, at a low price too!

Saline Trips: Poetry chapbook by Salena Saliva. 28 pages, $5 American cash or international m.o. (postage included) from Salena Saliva Godden, P.O. Box 20698, London, NW6 6FF, UK.; and Dollywood cd e.p. by Salena Saliva Godden and The PC Collective, 3 songs, 12+ minutes, $6 postpaid, American cash, check or International M.O. to address above. These poems are raw, visceral and real, humorous and gritty. They remind me of American poet Ana Christy. Salena Saliva is the UK counterpoint to Ana's cool, funny underground Beat writings. Particularly good are the longer pieces I Sometimes Wish I'd Never Been Born At All, T.V. Ladies, Demonic Elves And The Shadow Keeper, and the hilarious The Tale Of Miss Virginia Epitome, who's hymen grows back over her face! The centerpiece of both the chapbook and cd e.p. is Dollywood, about the author wanting plastic surgery to make her pretty like Dolly Parton. Dollywood reads: "Take a knife to my face and make my nose look in place, rip my cheeks so the bones are high, and take the squint out of my eye, I want my eyes to be Chinese, then I must de-crease my knees, axe open my body for a tummy tuck and go, it hurts to be glamourous, honey, I should know. Take a chainsaw, my bones are too long, take a gun, my heart is too strong, I'm just a gorgeous perfect mould, I grow more beautiful, I don't grow old. I want to be a plastic dolly, make me perfect, I've got the lolly, I want to be the Queen of Dollywood, just like any dolly would…" The chapbook has photocopy art and the poems wax on about modern contemporary life and day to day concerns. The poems have a whiff of danger and a good dash of humour. The cd e.p. is especially well-done, with garish Andy Warholish color cover insert and the three poems Dollywood, Roaddigger, and Think Of Me. Dollywood and Roaddigger have a good beat and nice sound effects, including a jackhammer buzzing and a phone ringing, over which Salena reads her poems in a sultry voice with tongue firmly planted in cheek. Think Of Me is the weakest poetry/song, and here Salena kind of drones/intones the words over a lazy drum machine track., sort of reminded me of Nico's emotionless passionless voice. But the first two song poems kick ass and bear repeated listenings. Overall, a fine production on both the chap Salena Trips and the Dollywood cd e.p. I was especially fond of the poetry/music cd e.p. and it will get many spins on my boombox as I paste up the issues of Lucid Moon.

Slawdogs In Buttermik: Poetry chapbook by Bill Lambdin. 36 pages, $3 cash, check or m.o. made out to Hellp! Press, P.O. Box 38, Farmingdale, NJ 07727 Beautifully produced chapbook with color cover of hot dog diner, and a meaty selection of heartfelt amusing poetry from Bill Lambdin (the title and cover photo are making me hungry!). Ode To Tobacco reads: "Succubus delilah jezebel black widow I want to inhale yr sweet fragrance & feel you in my lungs & nostrils & lovingly exhale yr beautiful smoke clouds I try to escape from you but you lure me back again you evil bitch you." Particularly fresh and descriptive remembrances of a time and place are the poems Tryin' To Get To Heaven Before They Close The Door (about listening to Bob Dylan), Aller Retour Paris, and They Can't Take That Away From Me (about listening to Frank Sinatra). Lambdin has a flair for describing and recalling things and putting them to paper in such a way as to make them seem like you've never read these thoughts before, that they are fresh and exciting and new. A terrific writer, here with a meaty sampler of his work, at a bargain price. Three cheers to Bill Lambdin, and Joe Musso and Rick Silvani at Hellp! Press for a fine production.

We Remember You Janet: Poetry chapbook by Joseph Verrilli. 20 pages, $5, cash or check or money order made out to Joe Verrilli, 115 Washington Ave/GH, Bridgeport, CT 06604-3805. 38 pages. This is a heartfelt photocopied tribute to Verrilli's late wife Janet, who died of kidney failure and other problems in June 1999. Through letters, photos, poems, and tributes from friends, Joe works his way through his pain and grief and searches for closure and a way to do justice to his beloved wife's memory. This is a project that could easily have slid into pretention or maudlin emotions, but Joe collects everything with tender loving care and lays it all out for you to see. You come away from this project somehow appreciating how frail the human mind, body and spirit is, and vow to live each day to the fullest. I never met Janet but I feel as though I know her a little bit now, and I commend Joe Verrilli for expressing his love for the memory of his late wife, with taste and tender loving care. If you know Joe or knew Janet, you'll appreciate this project. Most touching was the handwritten note from Janet addressed to "Love", saying she'll be right back from the store. The package needs a title on the cover and a thick stock front and back cover, and the pages should be photocopied on both side and in one section instead of two, but overall a nice job. Maybe Joe will rework it soon and refine the look of it into more of a chapbook form. Ask me, Joe, and I'll help put it together for you for free at Lucid Moon Press!

         Please send in poetry chapbooks, books, cds, broadsides, and cassettes for review to Ralph Haselmann Jr., 67 Norma Road, Hampton, New Jersey, 08827. Include price including postage, who to make check out to, and address (where to order from). Also include a sase so I can tell you which issue it will be reviewed in. Publishers have my permission in advance to reprint any of my reviews as long as you send a me a copy of the issue it appears in.