Hard to find good things to read these days. Especially in the realm of Poetry. Now, I've picked up a few poetry chapbooks at stores around the country, but nothing really stuck in my mind. Some were certainly enjoyable, but all washed over me. Admittedly, I even bought a few based on their covers alone. I'm not why, but there you have it.
Well, I'm here to say that through some luck I met someone here in Seattle's writing circles (the latest city I've lived in... which makes about the 12th one, ironically) who shared their poetry chapbook with me and it was great. Called the 12th Man, you should check it out as soon as possible as it's definitely a gem. I, a lowly prose writer, can only hope to emulate such ability to sculpt the language while hitting on all the major issues facing us today. One day, dear reader, one day.
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