
Todd Cirillo’s book Burning the Evidence by Epic Rites Press is filled with snapshot observations from his Polaroid eye for detail, thieves’ ear for dialogue, and optimistic attempts at love and affection in all situations. Cirillo accomplishes a rare feat; he makes poetry relatable and accessible to every person. In these poems, he lays his heart bare on the bar, sometimes stupidly, other times sacrificially, but always sincerely. Some poems are punches to the gut, others are chocolates on the pillow or the last glimpse of red taillights fading away. Despite the disasters in life and love, Cirillo finds beauty “forever shining down on the whole filthy set up” and after reading this book, you will too.
You can order the book at http://www.epicrites.org/pre-order.html or http://www.epicrites.org
Dear friends: I would love to send each of you a copy with all my love, however, that would be unfair to the publisher, Epic Rites Press, who spent much time and money to put this collection into the world. So, even though the book is not free, my love is, especially if you support Epic Rites Press and this poet by purchasing a copy or ten (they make incredible gifts!) At an affordable $10, this a happy hour deal not to be missed. Cheers!
“Like the great Bill Gainer, Todd Cirillo says more in a few words than most of us can say in volumes. This book is full of love, heartbreak, music and the occasional watering hole. Cirillo doesn’t just burn the evidence, he lights up the night sky with it, baring his heart, like a neon highway sign, beating 24/7–with words.” –John Dorsey, Tombstone Factory
“Language chiseled onto the page and wholly accessible. A poet of unmistakable voice–tough but capable of tenderness…” –Wayne F. Burke, DICKHEAD
“You don’t have to look far. Just throw a dart at the map, you’ll find a little piece of his heart – broken, a girl burning his number in an ashtray, and a beer soaked napkin bleeding a two word not – You Bastard…It’s always a good place for Cirillo to start, that’s why I love this guy – and his poems.” –Bill Gainer, Lipstick and Bullet Holes
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