If, as Philip Larkin says, poetry preserves the memory of the human race, we believe that sweet, smoky, gritty memories of scooting boots across dusty dancefloors in honkey tonks deserve to be part of that record. This collection offers memories of love found and of love lost. There are verses about line dancing and mechanical bulls, crusty bartenders and jukeboxes whining out two-stepping songs full of pedal-steel guitar. And, of course, the collection won’t be complete without a few crying-in-your-beer poems too.
