Poetry. Surrender the sweater vest, lose the loafers, pop the collar. These are not your grandfather’s prose poems. Nor are they your father’s. They belong to a new generation. A generation that values poetic craft, fresh language, and images that burn. These prose poems maintain a controlled, consistent voice, despite the many colorful subjects explored. Fairy tales go awry, pop culture is pimped out, lovers take leaps of faith that can only end in injury. Surreal worlds and crisp words create an artful violence that’s vital like oxygen. The voice of these poems commands your attention. He walks up to you, looks you in the eye, and punches you in the gut. And you are winded, and you look at him, and he simply walks away. And you realize, you liked it.