Dom Yezzis only other book of poetry, Collected Poems, was published in 2009 to non-existent critical acclaim. This new hesitant collection delves into amorphous topics no other writer today, or at anytime in the past, has either cared to, or felt the need to, dissect ad nauseam. Neither overly elegant, nor sufficiently catchy, these halting poems seem to be equal parts overactive imagination and unnecessary psychosis and are unlike anything else this critic has ever been tasked with digesting before, including Aunt Bethels Thanksgiving Dinner. The halting rhythm juxtaposes with the accidental rhyme to give the overall impression of an elderly drunk stumbling into a dark alley singing Peg of My Heart with a girl on each arm. The inexplicable references and tenuous leaps in imagery challenge those not properly stoned in preparation for taking this journey. Little else can be said that the actual poetry itself doesn't relate either explicitly or by innuendo. We await his next collection with battened-down breaths

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