Description:

Mikel K doesn’t pretend to be a guru or a scholar, but profundity and reason often kick from his poems whether he likes it or not. He delivers priceless lines rather than overwrought pieces; he’ll burp and say, “I’m an alien on this planet and I want to scream, damn it,” rather than wax Steinian about a rose being a rose being a rose. In this modern era of snubbing domesticity, Mikel boasts about home life, parenthood, and reformation from intoxicated adventure. His work can climb from scatological to ultra-sensitive: “Love can make it. Smile at a stranger. Be nice because.” A smile can erase the grizzly mood; post-relationship idealization is bypassed for the sincere query: “Does she miss fucking me?” --David Herrle(www.subtletea.com)