Devil’s Roadtrip: The Collected Poetry of Armando Gonzalez

Armando Gonzalez’s Devil’s Roadtrip is a sharp, haunting, and darkly funny poetry collection that drives straight into the heart of human contradiction. At just 65 pages, it’s a compact but potent ride — a desert roadtrip through despair, memory, desire, and absurdity, with the devil himself riding shotgun.

What resonated with me was Gonzalez’s ability to be both unfiltered and deeply poetic. His Lucifer is not some abstract evil — he’s a beer-drinking, cowboy-hatted misfit (“Lucifer in a ten-gallon hat… dancing hula girl tattoo”) who’s almost more human than devil. The journey becomes a metaphor for grief, guilt, and the search for meaning in a broken-down Chevy of a life. That final image of hearts falling from a mysterious box and staining the sand pink in the desert? It lingers.

Gonzalez writes with a fierce rhythm that recalls the beat poets and Bukowski, but with more introspection and cultural layering. Poems like “Styx Mea” and “Somnium Supermercati” capture the push-pull between self-destruction and transcendence. In the latter, a supermarket becomes a surreal warzone of late-stage capitalism and spiritual decay — “press your soul against mine while I’m at the Supermart and feel nothing but my coat wet from toilet water from aisle 7.” It’s grotesque, hilarious, and unnervingly poignant.

The collection also shines in its cultural specificity. Gonzalez grounds many poems in the Mexican-American experience — from Progreso border town memories to Catholic schoolgirl flashbacks — without ever slipping into cliché. The language is rich with Spanglish grit, musicality, and spiritual hunger. “Progreso International Bridge” is a standout: part Kafka hallucination, part drunken prayer, it blends surrealism with raw border-town realism in a way that’s both funny and devastating.

If there’s a critique to be had, it’s that the tone can be unrelentingly intense. There are few moments of quiet or restraint — Gonzalez goes full throttle from start to finish. A bit more structural variety or room to breathe between poems might have helped the strongest pieces land with even more impact.

Still, Devil’s Roadtrip is a thrilling, unforgettable collection. It doesn’t just ask you to read — it dares you to ride shotgun. It’s not for the faint of heart, but for those who love poetry with edge, humor, and soul — this one’s for you.