Attack of the Fifty-Foot Centerfold

These poems are steampunk on steroids. They're plutonium-powered and neon-lit. These poems describe the world as it should be, as we want it to be, as we fear it will be, as it is every morning between 3 and 5 a.m. when our dreams are invaded by Godzilla, Tarzan, Wonder Woman, King Kong, Sinatra. If "Attack of the Fifty-Foot Centerfoeld" were a holiday, it'd be Hallowe'en for grown-ups, Christmas for space aliens and the Fourth of July for everybody, because each of these poems is a little present, and like the best presents, they don't just please us — they set us free.