title: The Aftermath, etc.
author: Get in the car Helen
description: The Aftermath, etc. is a rare look at the broken man in his natural environment: a wasteland of pizza, shark flicks, porn and beer . . . his only escape is through the pen, and if it were not so, the fine art of handmade explosives. --Andi Todaro<br /><br />The Aftermath, etc. goes after the topic of romantic love with a meat cleaver and a machete. --Olatundji Akpo-Sani, Baobob Tree Press<br /><br />In The Aftermath, etc. , poet Rob Geisen (writing as Get in the car, Helen) mounts an astoundingly affectionate all-out assault on heterosexual male grief and loss and does so in a way that draws upon an array of comedic surreal phanopoetic vernacular traditions. Amped up by accurate, lyric, mass media hysterics as well as a naked, private despair, this series of poems to/of 'Helen' simultaneously appear as glittery and vapid as an extended Geico commercial, yet as rich and transformative as the 'idiot' Trungpas of the Mishap Lineage. --Jim Cohn, author of The Ongoing Saga I Told My Daughter<br /><br />The Aftermath, etc. goes after the topic of romantic love with a meat cleaver and a machete. --Olatundji Akpo-Sani, Baobob Tree Press<br /><br />In The Aftermath, etc. , poet Rob Geisen (writing as Get in the car, Helen) mounts an astoundingly affectionate all-out assault on heterosexual male grief and loss and does so in a way that draws upon an array of comedic surreal phanopoetic vernacular traditions. Amped up by accurate, lyric, mass media hysterics as well as a naked, private despair, this series of poems to/of 'Helen' simultaneously appear as glittery and vapid as an extended Geico commercial, yet as rich and transformative as the 'idiot' Trungpas of the Mishap Lineage. --Jim Cohn, author of The Ongoing Saga I Told My Daughter
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  ![Cover image](image/9781488061547.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s going to be coming for us, right?
  
  
  “I’ll call for help as soon as we can get to a safe place.”
  
  
  Natasha fumbled for the release button on her seat belt. By the time she was
  out of it, Landon had come around to her side of the truck and yanked the door
  open. When she stood up, she had only a second to register that the hitman’s
  car had turned off the main road and was headed back toward them.
  
  
  “We have to go where a car can’t get to us,” said Landon.
  
  
  She glanced over his shoulder as fear gripped her heart.
  
  
  The car was a hundred yards away and barreling toward them.
  
  
  He tugged on her hand and pulled her away from the road. They sprinted toward
  the forest.
  
  
  A gunshot resounded through the air, glancing off a tree trunk not far from
  her head. Now the hitman was using the rifle.
  
  
  “Let me take up the rear,” said Landon as he dropped behind her. “Whatever
  happens to me, don’t slow down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ever since