There are a bunch of reasons why I like Eddie Kilowatt's poetry, and why I'm going to his book release at The Social on Friday night. First of all, the guy's writing is thoughtful yet accessible, with interesting twists and observations. He's also funny, both in writing and at public readings. Check out this excerpt from "We have paper towels for that kind of thing:"

Once while sledding
at the age of seven
I had to sh-t outside
but didn't arrange
my snowsuit quite
correct, and when I
got home I spent an
hour in the bathroom
trying to clean off the
back of the soiled
snowsuit, it took
nearly two rolls of toilet paper ...
(My mother) took the snowsuit
holding the suspenders
to the washing machine
and as chili was on the
stove she shook her
head and yelled why
did you use so much
g-ddamn toilet paper
we have paper towels
for that kind of thing.

I also dig the diversity of mood in his work, ranging from angry enough to bash the windows of a crack dealer's car to so very sweet, like this:

I even
placed the soap
on the
plastic wire dish
hanging
from the shower head
instead of
the edge
of the tub,
because I knew
that is where
you would want it.

But what I appreciate the most about Kilowatt's work, both in his first book "Manifest density" and in his latest collection,"Carrying a knife in to the gunfight," is his utter and complete shamelessness. Sure, at times he comes off slightly judgmental (in one piece he rips on a 38-year-old for still working in food service) and some -- feminist types in particular -- could get turned off by the numerous poems about his notchy bedpost, but whether he's writing about racial tensions, sexual relationships or his childhood, Kilowatt states everything in a truthful, completely unapologetic voice. And in my book, that's the crux of good poetry.