From The East Bay Express,

“Press Here”, 5/26/04, by Anneli Rufus

To pee or not to pee: In The Urinals of Hell (Superstition Street, $10), Oakland poet Joe Pachinko offers hardcore imagery that would shock Hallmark but not Shakespeare. But hey, "bull balls and urinals are poetic," says Pachinko, who was mistakenly arrested for robbing a Lakeshore Avenue bank nearly thirty years ago at age seventeen. "Things that are considered 'inoffensive' offend the living shit out of me. Walt Disney? He was a fascist FBI informer. ... There's this idea that for something to be considered poetry it has to be about trees, birds, flowers, dysfunctional families, and your maid Consuela who's really just like part of the family bringing you tea while you watch your fake Japanese garden sunset. And the book has to have a tree on the cover. The possibilities for words and ideas are infinite. I don't buy that postmodern 'everything's been done' crap." Pachinko's titles alone promise much, what with "Gimme Some Fuckin' Kumquats," "The Sea Monkeys Gave Me Unconditional Love," "URETHRA! I'VE FOUND IT!" and nearly two hundred more. The poems themselves are deep and defiant, daring you to dismiss them. You'll lose that dare.