Torched Verse Ends

Poetry. These are the poems of a hooch-swilling layabout, shifty-eyed sneak thief, disagreeable cuss-in short, good work, but he scares my kids. That shaved head and Satanic goatee? The yelling about the government?--Aaron Anstett. The poems in Steven D. Schroeder's debut collection are not for the faint of heart. I mean this as the most serious of warnings. Upon reading them, you may find yourself locked in a cloakroom with nothing but his pages and a musty parka between you. Even if you resist, you may still dream, nightly, of absconding to Times Square with the author, frolicking in the orange light and snapping pictures. Buy three copies: one for the bookshelf, one to hide under your pillow, and one to keep close to your body at all times--Mary Biddinger.