At once irreverent, serious, silly, intellectual, sexual, and relevant, Shut Up is a brilliant kaleidoscope of the social-sexual-political realities of the late 20th century. Shut Up is Andrews’ most accessible work to date; but it is also writing so raw and powerful that it will infuriate some of its audience. For Shut Up is a work directed at its readers, at the social and political community from which the writing springs, and Andrews holds no punches in his assault on the stupidity and barbarism of American moral homilies, its bigotry and destructiveness. “I can’t watch the freedom,” the poet angrily proclaims. “Astronauts would only prefer the hula, harmalite, tissue blots off Judeo-Christian sunset – church a regular wound museum . . . Timesharing Jesus – boys one smirking boys one shot.” As in much of Andrews’ writing, the poet pushes beyond cynicism into an aphoristic wit and outright laughter: “Literature is worse than life.” “Porn teaches us what to forget.” In Shut Up the author of such noted books as Love Songs, Give ‘Em Enough Rope, Getting Ready to Have Been Frightened, and Executive Summary takes everybody’s language into the great (rediscovered) known, a world of slang, song, street jive, pompous pronouncements, and whisperings of love. It is a world at once beautiful and terrifying, a world that cannot recognize its own beauty, its prophets, its own doom
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