<p>Dan Provost is a keen observer, jotting down his thoughts in his &ldquo;little notebook,&rdquo; documenting the failures of humanity, wanting nothing more than to be proven wrong. More importantly, he looks inward, exploring loneliness, depression, self-loathing, and all the truths that most people don&rsquo;t want to confront. He is not afraid of showing his darkest sides, which allows you to trust his narrative and empathize with his plight. I have always admired Dan&rsquo;s matter-a-fact style and the way that hidden in the rough landscape of his words, you find images to marvel over.&nbsp;</p><p>-Rebecca Schumejda, author of&nbsp;Something Like Forgiveness</p><p>Dan calls his poetry confessions of loneliness, and many of the poems lay bare the depression of modern drudgery and hopelessness, but it&rsquo;s the poems themselves that rise up through the grime, the empty bottles, the murky waters, and they create a footpath. This path is slightly different for each of us, and Dan&rsquo;s poems lead him out of the darkness and into the dark, ever onward. He may call that a struggle, but I see strength. I see endurance. I see a man who cannot be broken any further&mdash;the ultimate excuse to keep going, to keep writing. And for us to keep reading his work.&nbsp;</p><p>&mdash; James Duncan, author of&nbsp;<em>We Are All Terminal But This Exit Is Mine</em></p><p>&ldquo;Dan Provost and I go back a long way and I&rsquo;ve been fortunate enough to see him get to where he is now. I think he would be the first to tell you that his earlier work was deeply influenced by Charles Bukowski, and while this latest collection has a similar dark edge, I&rsquo;ll say this work is Provost influenced by Provost, painful, personal, the poems here no longer walk a mile in another man&rsquo;s shoes, but move forward to create their own path for readers to connect with.&rdquo;</p><p>&nbsp;</p><p>--John Dorsey</p>