Some of these poems soared, some rocketed, some collapsed in upon themselves. Many were beautiful, some were moving, others wearisome. But the works collected herein are art, poetry art, and therefore subjective. Those poems that soar for this reader will leave a different reader yawning and bored. And vice versa. Ginsberg features heavily in this collection, and I deeply enjoy Ginsberg. Kerouac is here too, whom I also enjoy, if not quite so profoundly. Of course Ferlinghetti, of course Corso, and then many whom I did not know (but then I don't know much about poetry, I just know what I like), and surprisingly Picasso and Pasolini (see previous parenthetical). Some of these poems were translated into English from non-English languages; perhaps that has something to do with some of the not-liking; perhaps in original languages, leaden works transmute to alchemical gold. My favorite work in this collection is "Why I Choose Black Men For My Lovers" by La Loca, but there are many strong poems in here. I think the strong and fascinating overbalance the weak and uninteresting. But it may be different for you. Or not. Ultimately, this is City Lights, this is Ferlinghetti, this is a good book and comforting.