About the book: year / This is real poetry in a line. This is prose with strong eggs and at the same time achingly feminine, bright and, dare I say it, lyrical. Written quickly, as if on the road, squatting, near a spit-stained window in a reserved seat car of a fast train, And I’m in Nowhere. That's exactly what the great Road singer Jack Kerouac wrote. This is exactly what the great singer of Love Charles Bukowski wrote. The book contains obscene language.