Alchemical street poetry that will have your motorcycle levitating the whole drive home from the late night shift, slinging drinks to tomorrow’s fallen angels. The fourth collection by resident troublemaker, James Norman, is a year long walkabout through an entire vial of acid, with a rotating cast of character actors, friends and fiends, and even if, like Kerouac once claimed, “it all ends in tears anyway,” it’s still a carnival ride worth taking.
