Nothing better than this book. Except sex. And food.

NGL is the loud one, and the one to hand anybody who swears poetry is not for them. Short, blunt, profane poems about wanting things, being a body, and the running joke that the body eventually loses. It is funny in a way that keeps turning serious when you are not looking.

Underneath the appetite is the real subject: the hunger to use a whole life all the way up before it is gone. Existential dread and a two a.m. snack are treated here as the same impulse, which is the truest thing the book says.

Human Lives Here. Trying to use everything. Before it is gone. What can I do?

The slang, the swearing, and the internet in its bones are all deliberate, kept exactly as composed. These are poems to read out loud, screenshot, and send.

It is the shortest possible distance between a laugh and a lump in the throat, which is a harder trick than a hundred solemn poems.

For readers who want poetry with a pulse and a sense of humor, and anyone tired of verse that takes itself too seriously.

Loud, alive, and over before you want it to be. Then you start it again.