Coke Brown's third volume of poetry charts the route through learning to accept others and oneself, into a place (perhaps temporary) of calm and rest after having rocked and rolled for far too long. Coke's latest work is erudite, but as always, can also be crude and campy. You'll find his observations touching and important, whether you're an angry, neglected emo teen or a self-important oldster who hides his soft, squishy center.
Coke was born. He attended school. He drank alcohol and smoked cigarettes. He did drugs. He realized that he was gay. He loved and lost both money and people. He stopped smoking, drinking, and doing drugs, but not before becoming clinically insane and having many adventures. He wrote about things. When he had one, he mowed his lawn every weekend, except in winter, because it didn't need it in the winter. He did laundry and took showers. He gained and lost weight, and had gum disease for a while. He shaved his head and got some tattoos and a piercing. Sometimes he went out dancing or to the movies. He got old, but hopes to get older.