I've seen pretty much everything else being hawked, sold or handed off over the years, and I've pretty much bought everything there is to buy on the subway... But this isn't a confessional. It's a book review, sort of. Yes, I bought a book. The F train had just crossed under the river and a fellow changed cars at East Broadway and came on selling books, one of which had his likeness on the front. By the time BLUE had change cars again at Delancey, I had purchased a signed copy of his book of poetry. I was about 20 pages in by 34th Street and burning though it. Like anything else you buy on the subway, from dope to bootleg Duracells, you never really know what you're going to get. You're taking a risk. Nothing bootleg about this volume of poetry though, and more like the Eveready Bunny than the phony copper tops, it keeps on going. BLUE was worth the risk. Mix journalism, philosophy, love, lust, NYC urban grime, southern comfort... that will bring you closer to what he's about. On top of that the guy can really turn a phrase. So in all, the best 10 bucks I ever dropped in the tunnels.