Muscular Poetry is a word trip that requires no LSD drop, peyote button, or, to be read, with some good weed. It is reality—raw and lean—served up tough and chewy. No flowers and roses, sweet kisses, and all the other bull of other poets. It reflects Bukowski, Fante, the Beats, Ginsberg, and Kerouac—men of grit, in touch with the present and living unafraid of the future. It guides men through the bumps and curves of a life lived hard, divorce, children, and career highs and lows. Every verse is about exactly the way our lives are as modern men, unvarnished.