Read aloud, Giorno's gritty poetry has an undeniable power and insistence. In print, as he admits, the dynamics don't always work. Conceived as performance pieces, his poems lie flat on the page, begging for a voice charged with emotion. His "litanies from the underworld of the mind," as William S. Burroughs calls them in the introduction, such as triple repetitions of "Crank me/ up and keep me/ open," and "I want to sleep hugging/ someone over and over," may resound in a smoke-filled club but read a little silly here. He offers unrestrained recollections of famed friends, including a harrowing description of Robert Maplethorpe's death from AIDS in 1989 and a graphic depiction of having sex in a New York subway toilet with the late artist Keith Haring while other men participated. Elsewhere Giorno recalls his starring role in Andy Warhol's Sleep. Recommended for Beat, avant garde, and sexual studies collections.