Popeye in Belgrade

Some months before the year of revolutions a late friend took a train into the heartland of what was held up as a model of despotism; a stopping train, in his compartment one other passenger clad in a blue suit needing thirty minutes attention from a stiff clothes brush. Opening a mildly indecent magazine this other proceeded to masturbate for two hours of the journey before alighting at a border post somewhere between pine forest and pine forest...from "The Blue Company". This book records the author's final detachment, in every sense of the word, from his country of origin. The poems emerge from places where political upheaval has recently occurred and record the aftershock of moral and spiritual earthquakes, often in intimate contexts.