"Poems about getting old and not liking it. About getting high on Christmas Eve. About a hole in the sky where Honest Ed's used to be. About killing mosquitoes and petting strange dogs, and a homeless man who feeds the pigeons who are always happy to see him. About tuning out and turning off and unplugging. About friends who've died, and confused skyscrapers on foggy days, and Nabokov in his underwear. About shame in the evening, regret in the morning, and, if there's time, a nap in the afternoon. About a world where the Clash is classic rock and experience killed curiosity and the corpse wondered what's next. "Why I Am Not a Poet" is the lively preface-memoir about growing up and becoming a writer in Toronto in the '80s and '90s, and being influenced by it's long-gone bars, bookstores, and people."--