Luis Blasini composes a book of prose ripped straight from the gutters of Hell. His poetry will not be for everyone. He is dirty, crude, has an almost absolute reliance on free verse, and is rather graphic when it comes to sex and booze. Blasini goes straight for the jugular. This is not poetry for the meek at heart. Class Conscious Poetry is, however, very funny and very direct., resonating with brilliance. There is no craft here. The poetry flows from Blasini's hand with such ease that it's akin to the remark said about Kerouac: "It's just typing."