Andy Riverbed's poems are diverse, sometimes entering into a fantasy landscape of the imagination, and at other times mostly straightforward musings of the mundane, sometimes detailing how to detail. As given in the poem "The Lost art of Visualization": Think of it as cleaning/your room; all the shit/comes out of dirty closets and it's on the floor. Little by little we/all join and clean; eventually, the room looks good. Conversations take place with Mr. Riverbed's work that is concrete one minute, and jumbled the next into a ramble. Some poems serve as follow-ups to others, some offer somewhat obscure advice measures. From "Nothing": sucks/creativity/more than drugs./let's/waste your time./let's hang/with shady/people./learn this/when you're/young;/it's why/they're/old./seperate/completely/to use/successfully./you must isolate./there is no other/way.
The book is handsomely designed, small enough to cradle like a hot dog, but more appeasing in the end, and without the indigestion. You'll mostly laugh, but will have it followed up by a humbling piece on the page to follow. Read without expecting one thing or another on this one, and you'll do just fine.
-Joseph Veronneau
Poet/Editor, Scintillating Publications
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