If you are the kind of person who sits in the balcony at movies, wonders what Charles Manson is up to, dreams of showering in a waterfall, hates their job or has friends who are crazier than you, well, this is the book for you.

These poems are funny and sad and hip in ways that you'll immediately recognize. They're also strangely beautiful. You won't look at the world quite the same way you used to when you finish this book.

Scott Poole's mind is wired incorrectly. Something is wrong in this boy's head, and the result it all right with me. The poems in this book show us what the postmodern world can be. Half-literary, Half-media-insanity, Poole's universe is controlled like a dream. His hopes and fears are our own; his interpretations of these is entirely his. His language is highly visual, highly interactive. We see these poems and the worlds they disguise from our own history, from where he helps us to remember our childhood, loves and nightmares in which ponies in pink lace somehow can save us. Nature and nudity and hallucination abound in these poems. Lust has never been sillier nor more immediate. This is how the writer wants the world to function, and with good reason. Once you enter Poole's world, our own seems less than adequate, where imagination is only our own, in The Cheap Seats, it is a wild ride that we all share, crammed into the back seat of Poole's old convertible, as he drives toward the edge of a chasm. Trust him behind the wheel, this man knows how to drive.

Scott Poole is a funny poet for sure, but what strikes the reader are the shadows below the humor. The bite and the literal sadness. If one observes the world beyond TV, one is a philosopher of poets. If one is nimble-tongued and true to the heart's point-of-view, one is gifted to speak to us in a language we digest level by level as it settles through the skin and seduces our insides. That's a good thing, I think. Scott Poole is a poet with both these characteristics and his poems are literal and clumsy and real. I dare you to read one without laughing or realizing something new: "This silence is nothing but me./It drowns things too small to hear./It's a little car running out of gas/nowhere."

Scott Poole's unique and clever voice shines in this book -- he takes on everything from ordinary life to the unabomber to lunch meat to 9/11, and does it all with extraordinary style and authenticity.