Black Helmet is a DJ who knows how to make people move.  All I can say is he spins records that have a ton of soul, and that he makes me think of a pas­sion­ate chemist having an excel­lent time with his beakers up there.  Damn.

What I mean to say is that  tomor­row night (Thurs­day, 8/26) Black Helmet will hit the decks after I read from Poems and Fake Book Reviews.  So come on out to Veron­ica People’s Club, at 105 Franklin Street in Green­point Brooklyn.  Your clos­est sta­tion stop is the G at Green­point Ave, but I have heard about people who take the L to Bed­ford and then walk.  What­ever you want!

Happy hour ends at 8.  I’ll read around 9.  Black Helmet will hold it down from 9:30 on.  Cel­e­brate the birth of depress!

And check out this hilarious poster that Black Helmet made for the event.

Come cel­e­brate the release of Poems and Fake Book Reviews at Veron­ica People’s Club in Green­point, Brook­lyn on Thurs­day, August 26. Come around 7 p.m. for the good drink deals, as happy hour ends at 8.  The DJ comes on at 9:30, so some­time before then I’ll prob­a­bly read a poem and a fake book review or two.  There will be copies of the chap­book for sale, too.  Hope to see you there!

Pro­fes­sional Bowl­ing in Hol­ly­wood: A Novel in 16 Acts Rad­fried Honeysuckle.  M.M. Farrow Books, $22 (236p) 000-0-000-00001-8

Hon­ey­suckle has become syn­ony­mous with drug­store noir, and writ­ing for him is a walk in the park— he comes out with a novel every six months (rais­ing many ques­tions about his iden­tity, includ­ing the one pro­moted by Bal­ti­more News that he is in fact sev­eral men in a var­nish fac­tory out­side Toledo, Ohio).  This latest outing fic­tion­al­izes the famed Hol­ly­wood bowl­ing ball mur­ders of 1977, which were immor­tal­ized in Jorge Twombly’s his­tory, Good­bye, Funny Face.  The scene is Larry’s Fancy Lanes on Vine Street, and we are gripped by the collar from the very begin­ning: “The mayor of Bev­erly Hills has been took out by a 15-pound green and brown vin­tage Brunswick, a feather duster shoved down his throat and the words ‘hand­ker­chief dog’ scrawled onto his naked belly with a blue marker.”  In comes Honeysuckle’s sig­na­ture sher­iff, Herr Bilch, this time sport­ing a “long gray pony­tail and parti-​colored wooden clogs.”  As usual, fans of Pyn­chon look­ing for a light subway read are sure to be enter­tained by the bizarre antics of the inven­tive and “jolly fat pill-​popping sher­iff,” a cross between golden age Mac­Gyver and the genie from Disney’s Aladdin.  Everyone knows Hon­ey­suckle; if you know you love him, then you’ll love Pro­fes­sional Bowling.