The poetry in this collection covers plenty of ground: to the ends of the earth and back again. The poems range from righteous honkytonk to religious mysticism. It's like Hank Williams is in the backseat of the Caddy converible picking out a tune while Francois Villon offers him lyrics. Christy can soften you up with a joke and a kind word then the dog bites and the knife slips in. The Big Thirst takes a great big gulp of nectar and blood, joys and vicissitudes, all of it stirred with a big stick of awe.

Always in search of original characters and experiences, Jim Christy is a literary vagabond with few peers. He was once described by George Woodcock as “one of the last unpurged North American anarchistic romantics.” His publisher has called him a hip Indiana Jones; one reviewer credited him with a “Gary Cooper-like presence.” His buddies have included hobos, jazz musicians, boxers, and non-academic writers such as Charles Bukowski, Peter Trower and Joe Ferone. “I never dismiss another’s story out of hand,” he writes, “no matter what it’s about or how outrageous it may seem.” Christy’s often wry reminiscences of his travels, trysts and trials are fuelled by a hard-won pride. A gardener, a sculptor and a spoken word performer with a jazz/blues ensemble, Christy has been seen in film and television productions, usually in non-speaking roles as a thug or a gangster.

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