This story collection is one of London's and Dublin's worst kept literary secrets. It took a publisher with the beerguts of pretend genius to date to publish it, unexpurgated. They're all here, the charmers, the snakes, the innocent, the complaisant, the guilt-ridden and the guilty, the Brothers, the whores, the poor and the young, the invulnerable, the jailed and the dead, the green and the truant, the music box and the p.a, the skaters, the crooners, and the pink neon sign that blinks all night, saying keys, keys, keys...

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