Jacke Wilson's Blog, page 85

Brightening Your Day With a Little Little My

You wake up. Grumble your way to work. Slug down some coffee. Read some horror show news about people cheating America.

It’s the end of March. There’s snow on the ground. Do you really want to blog about these stories?

Like this one?

Workers’ compensation insurance premium fraud is so commonplace that it costs the city’s construction industry hundreds of millions of dollars a year alone…

Or this?

The former owner of an Ohio oil and gas services contractor pled guilty in federal court Monday to ordering an employee to release thousands of gallons of hydraulic fracturing waste liquids down a stormwater drain and into the Mahoning River.

Or this?

The former president and owner of a Wisconsin-based cheese company has agreed to plead guilty to distributing thousands of pounds of contaminated cheese...

Tainted cheese from Monroe, Wisconsin – where by God the high school sports team is nicknamed the Cheesemakers! What are we coming to?

Ugh. Do…not…have…the…strength…

Your hand drags the mouse over to Brain Pickings. And…kapow! Instant mood swing!

Yes! Look at Little My! Look at Moomin! If you and/or the kids in your life haven’t read these books, you need to get started. I’ve read a half dozen or more aloud, often through tears of laughter.

And this is about one I haven’t read yet!

Popova has many more pictures, as well as a brief history of the inimitable Tove Jansson, who really should be better known.

Popova and Jansson. What a great combination. The pictures will make you smile. The commentary, as always, makes you think. This is better than espresso!

One more to get the day started…

Okay, two…

 

Terrible Poem Breakdown: “Two Geniuses”

The Terrible Poem Breakdown series analyzes poems that are just not making it. We do this with the best intentions but pull no punches. Previous entries in our series can be found at the bottom of each post.

As always, the only rules are that the poems cannot be intentionally bad and the poet must be completely willing to submit to the analysis. I’m not qualified to judge poems for their formal qualities or even their poetic merit. I offer only the opinion of a willing reader and honest opinion provider.

Here we go!

Two Geniuses

She said her man was Mozart, his partner Salieri

Wishful thinking

The truth was they both were

Paul was a genius of a different kind

John was smart enough to see it

Together they changed the world.

My best friend bet his car on the Rose Bowl

And the Badgers let him down.

Ask and ye shall receive! I pointed out my weak spot for Wisconsin and the Beatles, and what do you know, a poet came through with a double reference.

Bet his car on the Rose Bowl? Ha ha ha ha ha. I have best friends like this! Everyone should! Sure, they need some extra attention. If that best friend is anything like mine, they probably lost their job because they couldn’t drive to work. Then they come and sleep on your couch. They eat a lot of Culver’s. It’s just a phase! A seventeen-year phase. But hey, what are friends for?

The she in the poem has to be Yoko. I’ve written about this very statement before, in The Race: A Novella. I suspect the poet may have noticed this by purchasing a copy for the low price of $2.99, then writing a poem designed to get into the Terrible Poem Breakdown series.

Am I upset at the manipulation of the process? Au contraire! I’m flattered!!!

So far no criticism. Okay, here we go. Minimal importance. Should the two geniuses be “four geniuses”? Or no: what if it was “three geniuses”? Wouldn’t that be a better title? Or maybe “Genius and Me”?

Okay, not sure those are improvements. But improving the poem is not my job! Poets should be entering flawless poems!

As always, my thanks etc. to the poet (the sneaky little devil) who agreed to submit to the critical lens. Scrutiny continues! Next time I will be tougher, I promise!

Previous Terrible Poems We Have Broken Down:

“Raise or Quit”
“good poem”
“The Druid’s Lament”
“Summer Song”
“The Gentle German”
“There in the Valley of Elah”
“Ode to a 20-Year-Old ‘Poet’”
“The Dancer”
“Advice”
“May Day”
“Disgrace”

Paperback Now Available! (And Bonus Minisode!)

Here we go! I’m pleased to announce that the paperback of The Promotion is now for sale at Amazon.com!  Kindle version is also available. Amazon’s currently running a sale on both The Race and The Promotion in honor of the new release.

And now…a special bonus episode of The Promotion. Enjoy!

Previously in The Promotion:  Minisode #3: In Which The Narrator Refutes His Critics and Begins a Critical New Position

Today’s Excerpt: The Promotion Minisode #4: In Which the Narrator Meets the Deputies Who Will Make or Break His Fortune

Later that afternoon I met with the two assistant directors that Jennifer had scraped from the dregs of the firm’s partnership. The first was Martin Shvets, a transaction lawyer twenty years into his career but who had only been at our firm for a year or two. He was a tall, Slavic-looking man with longish brown hair and round, gold-framed glasses. Thin nose, permanent sneer.

He began our meeting by informing me that Jennifer had offered him the directorship—my position—and that he had “of course” refused to accept. Too much thankless work, he said, and no extra pay, not even a bonus. And dealing with all those résumés, all those law school morons who think they’re smart enough to work at our firm but who know nothing at all.

“Nothing at all,” he repeated, as if he were accusing me of something. “Less than nothing. Worse than nothing.”

I offered a feeble shrug in return.

“Only a jackass would take that job,” he said, staring at me with contempt.

He had a manner of speaking in which his lips were always on the verge of curling with disgust, not exactly a smile but not exactly not a smile.

He had another characteristic I soon learned firsthand: whenever he shook hands with you, he stepped on your foot and made eye contact in an aggressive way. It was never clear if he’d done so on purpose or if he was merely clumsy, but this didn’t matter. Either way his response was the same. He hurt you. He defied you to do something about it. No one ever did.

Now, in his office, I mumbled something about looking forward to working with him and made my exit. Fight or flight, and the jackass chose flight. Not so much from fear but exhaustion. Let Martin go back to his stupid little desk with his stupid little phone calls and the rest of his stupid little world. I was on a high and did not want to let him drag me down.

The other assistant director, Linn, was famous in the office and even beyond, in a certain sense. Linn was the twin sister of a Swedish model who had been married to one of the most famous people in the world before a spectacular scandal had made his wife—and her twin sister—an internationally recognizable face. And just like her sister, Linn was tall and blonde and striking, a Nordic queen whose beauty stopped conversations cold. I had really only seen her a few times in the elevator and hallways—a vivid experience each time—and I could hardly believe we were working together.

She squinted as I introduced myself. Her eyes became little blue hyphens. Everything about her was adorable and perfect.

“We should take a coffee,” she said. “Do you like espresso?”

“Love it,” I heard myself shout.

We went to a nearby chain that was technically from Minnesota but had a Scandinavian feel. Although this was late August and D.C. was insufferably hot and humid, the coffee house had the air conditioning on full blast. With the wooden floors and tables and a silent fireplace cozying up the place, I felt as if I was watching her in her native habitat. Fresh off the slopes, enjoying a pick-me-up in the lodge before heading to the sauna.

My heart was pounding.

Next: In Which the Narrator Hears the Name That Will Forever Alter His Future

Can’t wait to read the whole thing? A full version of The Promotion is available on Amazon.com in paperback and Kindle versions.

Small Press Shout-Out: The New Press!

One of the most gratifying aspects of giving small presses a shout-out is that so many of them have a strong sense of purpose. Whether it’s becoming a B Corporation, or providing us with passports to international crime fiction, or building a community around works about identity, or helping to put more Asian and Pacific Island diaspora literature on the shelves, or simply reminding us of the beauty of handmade books, small presses bring us a step closer to the dream bookstore.

Okay, so maybe America today isn’t exactly the Soviet Union of the samizdat era, but it’s true that new or unusual voices aren’t always heard above the cacophony of popular or mainstream culture. Enter the small presses, to add a few grace notes to the monolithic drone.

Today’s shout-out recipient is no exception.

The New Press “publishes books that promote and enrich public discussion and understanding of the issues vital to our democracy and to a more equitable world.”

And just what are these vital issues?

I’m going to let their website’s topic list speak for itself:

African American
Arts/Culture/Film
Asian American
Criminal Justice/Law
Current Affairs
Ecology/Health
Economics/Globalization
Education
Fiction/Literature
For Parents
Gender Studies
Human Rights
K-12
Labor Studies
Latin America
Media/Journalism
Middle East
Philosophy
Political Science
Religion
Sociology
U.S. History
World History/WWII

Awesome. They publish Pete Seeger! They expand on their mission statement on their website:

Underlying The Press’s editorial program are three aims: to broaden the audience for serious intellectual work, especially by reaching out to audiences intellectually red-lined by commercial publishers; to bring out the work of traditionally underrepresented voices; and to address the problems of a society in transition, highlighting attempts at reform and innovation in a wide range of fields.

Intellectually red-lined! What a great phrase. I’ve never felt so excluded and immediately included at the same time.

This is the kind of press that traffics heavily in subtitles, which I’ve highlighted here:

Blocked on Webo: What Gets Suppressed on China’s Version of Twitter (and Why)
The Jewish Gospels: The Story of the Jewish Christ
The New Black: What Has Changed – and What Has Not – with Race in America
The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness
The Pinochet File: A Declassified Dossier on Atrocity and Accountability
Republic of Outsiders: The Power of Amateurs, Dreamers, and Rebels
Wrong Turn: America’s Deadly Embrace of Counterinsurgency
“Multiplication Is for White People”: Raising Expectations for Other People’s Children

The New Press has been around since 1990 and brings out around 50 titles per year. And while many of our small-press shout outs have been remarkable for the beauty of their website, the New Press’s site is all business. I would even characterize it as “workmanlike,” which I hope they take as a compliment. They’re not messing around at the New Press. They’re too busy delivering useful information.

You can check out their Spring 2014 Collection, including works by Alice Walker and Eric Hobsbawm, here. It also appears as if they recently lost someone close to them, founding editor André Schiffrin, who led an amazing literary life before passing away last December. A good time to send the Press some well wishes by browsing their titles and picking up a book or two.

You can check out my own adventures in small pressing, or indie publishing, or whatever it should be called, by picking up a copy of The Race: A Novella, now available in paperback, or my latest e-book, The Promotion! And do give Little Pickle Press (our B Corp shout-out) a little love as well!

Previous Small Press Shout-Outs:

Les Figues Press
Little Pickle Press
Black Balloon Publishing
Akashic Books
Ugly Duckling Presse
OR Books
SALT Publishing
The Permanent Press
Kaya Press
Tiny TOE Press
Atticus Books
Soho Press
Graywolf Press
Overlook Press
Other Press

Free Fiction: The Promotion Minisode #3

As previously announced, The Promotion: A Novella is now available for sale from Amazon as an e-book. I just approved the print version, which should be available very soon. As usual, I’m trying to keep costs down for the reader by pricing the e-book at $2.99 and the paperback at $4.99, at least for now. I’m also releasing sections of the book in a series of minisodes. Enjoy!

Previously in The Promotion:  Minisode #2: In Which the Annihilation of the Narrator’s Soul Leads to a Stunning Development

The Promotion Minisode #3: In Which The Narrator Refutes His Critics and Begins a Critical New Position

I am aware that the purpose of all this is to explain my disappearance. And I know this is a serious task I need to take seriously and that my relationship with this firm will depend on the mah mah mah etc. I’ve heard the rumors—that I was hit by a midlife crisis (which of course is my business) and tried to reinvent myself as a television writer (not entirely true and is anyway my business). Or that I became obsessed with a woman I had never met (my business!), or that I got on a plane with the intention of kidnapping and/or killing that woman (my business!!!).

Oh, but you’re busy? You like having the main points summarized, up front? In bullet points? Because you’re so busy and important? Oh, yes you are! Everyone in this office knows it! And they believe it because you act like you are!

No. I will not be rushed. Not this time.

I’m telling you what you need to understand first.

#

I should have jumped at the promotion, of course. A passionate person would have! But I am cautious to a fault, ruled if anything by an absence of passion. I have been called “dead in personality, dead in spirit, a walking void,” a characterization I accept. And of course I was still numb from the revelation of the nothing email. Even as Jennifer the office manager sat in the chair across from me, all smiles and positive energy, I elided the two developments, the epiphany that I was worth nothing and the offer of a promotion. What I did was worthless and yet the firm was eager for me to do more.

They thought I’d be good in a new role with increased responsibility, Jennifer said. Also they had looked at the numbers and noticed that I was in a “slow cycle” of billable hours.

I heard all this and imagined that somehow they had seen my draft email with the typo. Worth nothing. How widespread was this knowledge?

Jennifer finished her description of the offer. I had understood enough to know it had to do with recruiting. An administrative task, in other words, like serving on the Management Committee or the Emergency Procedures Committee or the Green-the-Office! Committee.

I realized I was nodding my head.

“So you’ll do it?” Jennifer asked.

My mind was beginning to clear. Recruiting! Every fall our firm hired between sixty and eighty newly minted attorneys, who arrived the following summer, eager to please. They changed everything about the place: gave it new energy, pushed us in new directions, helped us serve our clients in new ways. And I would be involved in bringing them in? This was not a nothing!

I tried to stay casual. “I’m pretty busy right now, Jennifer. But I agree—it’s an important job. You need to find the right person.”

“Yeah. Anyway, my understanding is that you’re not that busy. According to your billable hours, you’re one of the lowest-performing attorneys—”

“I’ll make time,” I said. “Who else is on the committee?”

“To be clear we’re not just asking you to serve on the committee,” Jennifer said. “We’re asking you to be the director. I hope that’s okay.”

Her demeanor implied that others had turned her down. I felt sorry for her.

“Even better,” I said grandly.

She laughed and touched her lips several times, a nervous tic of hers. “You’ll be given a new title. Director of Recruiting and Development. We’ll add it to your online bio, of course.”

“Of course.”

This was more responsibility than I had ever been given at the firm. It felt like a new era.

I asked what kind of development they were asking me to coordinate.

“Attorney development,” Jennifer explained. “Ongoing education requirements. How to gain new skills, how to become an expert in a specific practice area, preparing for life after the firm. Everything that helps the lawyers at our firm become better lawyers. It’s a valuable job.”

Valuable!

The timing of this was extraordinary. I asked her several more questions. How much of my time was expected? Who had done this in the past, and how long had they served in this capacity? Who would help me? And what did it mean that I had a new title?

Jennifer smiled in an apologetic way. “Well…it doesn’t affect your compensation or anything. It’s more of an honorific.”

“Of course,” I said with a small shrug, as if I were doing her a favor. I was already starting to imagine the impact I would have. I could tap the talent pool in new and interesting ways. I would strive to put together a perfect blend of top-tier candidates with scrappy underdogs. This was not a mindless administrative task. I would leave my mark on the firm.

“We only need to change the bio for two weeks,” Jennifer was saying. “Then we can take it down.”

I frowned. “Take what down?”

“The title. Recruiting season will be over, and we’ll remove it from your bio.”

“What about Development?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Well… the truth is you don’t actually do anything for that.”

“Oh,” I said.

“We add it for marketing reasons.”

“Oh,” I said again.

We stared at each other.

“Well, I don’t mind having it on there,” I said to break the silence. “I can be the permanent Director of Recruiting and Development! You don’t have to take it down.”

“You don’t understand,” she said. “We want to.”

I didn’t know what to say. She stood up, told me her assistant would drop off a batch of résumés, and left.

“Congratulations,” she said from the hallway, with no enthusiasm whatsoever. “Congratulations, Director.”

“Thank you.”

We had one last exchange of awkward smiles before she disappeared.

On my screen, the nothing email was still staring at me. I changed the word to noting and sent it on its way.

Next: The Narrator Meets the Deputies Who Will Make or Break His Fortune

Can’t wait to read the whole thing? A full version of The Promotion is available on Amazon.com.

How to Review Books by Alison Lurie

Man oh man. People, we have here a reviewer who has reached Stage Five on the scale of Great Book Reviews. An exciting development.

What are the stages? Let’s see…

Sometimes a reviewer makes you excited about a particular book. Let’s call that Stage One.

Sometimes a reviewer makes you want to read all the works by the author. Stage Two.

Let’s call it Stage Three when you want to read all the works of an author you previously had never thought you’d want to read.

And let’s call it Stage Four when the reviewer has the effect that Alison Lurie had on me with this one…

The image of an English woman writer of the first rank, for well over a hundred years, has been of a sensitive, well-bred, well-read person who is nevertheless somewhat nervous and unhappy, prone to mental and physical ailments and in extreme cases to self-destruction. Though she feels deeply, this woman’s erotic life is limited or shadowed in some way; she is seldom happily married, and probably has no children.

Okay. I’m interested. Where are we headed here? A biography of Virginia Woolf, perhaps? Maybe another updating of the novels of Saint Jane? A.S. Byatt v. Margaret Drabble?

Yet the first famous portrayal of a great woman storyteller in English literature is almost exactly the opposite of this stereotype. Geoffrey Chaucer’s Wife of Bath is a cheerful, strong-willed, eminently sane matron who has had five husbands as well as what Chaucer discreetly calls “other company in youth.” In a patriarchal world, she has managed to share power with men and make them and herself happy.

Oooh. That’s interesting. Sometimes these sneak-attack openings commit the sin of trying too hard. But this one has my interest. What did happen to the Wife of Bath as a model storyteller? Where are we headed now? Comparison of Chaucer with, say, Elizabeth Bowen or Hilary Mantel?

Guess again!

In real life, the nearest thing in contemporary Britain to the Wife of Bath as a storyteller is Fay Weldon. She shares with her predecessor a strong personal voice – practical, funny, wise – and not only physical appearance but multiple marriages. Many of the stories she tells have the moral of the Wife of Bath’s Tale: that what women want is their own way. If they get it, they will make men happy; if not, not.

Simply marvelous. Fay Weldon! I’ve ignored her for years. Now I’ll check her out.

So what’s Stage Four? When the reviewer can make you want to read Fay Weldon. Repeat: Fay Weldon.

And Stage Five? When you also want to read everything by the reviewer.

Nice work, Alison Lurie!

You can read more of Lurie’s (paywalled) article in The New York Review of Books.

Don’t Be Discouraged: You Are New!

Editor’s Note: In honor of springtime, I thought I’d rerun this post from last year, which remains one of the most popular posts we’ve had. Hope wins!

In an interview with Tinhouse’s J.C. Hallman, Walter Kirn refers to a common anxiety among writers:

J.C. Hallman: Do creative writers have an obligation to act as critics, to offer up alternatives to traditional critical methodologies and assumptions?

Walter Kirn: Creative writers have no obligation do anything, including their own creative work.  That’s what makes them “creative” in the first place, not merely productive.  That being said, a novel or a short story is an implicit piece of criticism.  It suggests that the job – some job; that of telling a story, say, or representing reality with language, or torturing reality with language – can be done better, or at least differently, than it has been done before.

Kirn’s right, of course – but at the same time, we all know how paralyzing this can be. There have been so many authors! Every story has been told! Everything’s been said! Blogging’s one thing, but who am I to presume that I can enter the world of writing a book that belongs on a bookshelf with all those authors I love and respect and admire?

Even the great Dr. Johnson suffered from a version of this internal narrative, giving up on writing poetry out of a belief that Alexander Pope had perfected the art, not to be surpassed.

(Ack, I hope I haven’t misremembered this – I can’t find the quote. In any case, I think the point still stands. Moving on…)

So what to do? You write spooky supernatural tales – good lord, there’s Stephen King dominating the field. You write historical novels set at sea during the Napoleonic Wars – but how can you top Patrick O’Brian? You feel drawn to write a story set in Dublin on a single day – well, hello there, Mr. Joyce! And on and on and on.

But guess what? Poetry didn’t end with Pope and Dryden. Spooky supernatural books don’t begin and end with Stephen King. There’s plenty of room for new stories, new books, new voices. And that’s where you come in: you can add your creative skills to the mix. And find your readers! They’re waiting for you.

Don’t internalize the gatekeepers. Break on through!

Who’s Cheating America: The Bad Penny

Image Credit: USA Today

A penny sale! What could be cuter? In my family, we tell the story of my aunt climbing out of her crib, helping herself to my grandmother’s jewelry, and peddling it to neighborhood kids for a penny apiece. Luckily that was in small-town Wisconsin, and all the jewelry was recovered, with the exception of the priceless heirloom that would have enabled me to retire early. Alas, it was lost to the sands of time… for now, anyway (I’m watching you, Zane Zor Zirbachen!).

Just kidding. I’m sure Zane Zor returned the diamonds just like anyone else.

What does any of this have to do with America’s Greatest Cheaters? Well, a penny sale sounds a lot like a penny auction. Right? Probably one of those things online that lets you buy little trinkets or homemade goods. Kids learn how to invest their money. Spend ten cents and get a smiley-face sticker; fifteen will get you a fake tattoo or something. Hard to imagine anyone making much money at a penny auction. They’re probably run by the folks who brought you Sesame Street and Reading Rainbow.

Or… maybe not:

A key player in an online penny auction site pled guilty in North Carolina federal court Wednesday to securities fraud and tax evasion…Dawn Olivares and her stepson, Daniel Olivares, each pled guilty and face five years in prison for their roles at Zeekler.com, a penny auction site.

What??? Five years? For running Zeekler.com? But that’s such a cute lil’ name! How much could this mom-and-pop (or mom-and-stepson) shop have been taking in!? A few hundred dollars, tops! And for that they get five years?

As a result of the scheme, victims worldwide, including more than 1,500 victims in the Charlotte, N.C., area, sustained losses of at least $750 million.

$750 million? That’s an awful lot of pennies. How many fake tattoos are there, anyway?

Hmmm. Something else must be going on here. (Pause for Googling.)

Okay, thanks to Investopedia, I have a better understanding of penny auctions:

A new trend in the auction market is the Penny Auction. How the penny auction works is you buy a certain amount of bids for a flat rate (the bids are worth around 60 cents), which are used to try to buy items. Every time you bid on an item, a bid is removed from your account and a timer pops up. If the timer reaches zero, then you have won the item. There have been cases of bidders winning items for up to 97% off the retail price. The danger is that there are others bidding on the items as well.

And it turns out there are a ton of these on the Internet, or at least there were before places like Zeekler started getting rolled up by the Feds.* They all have names like Beezid and BidFun and Happy Bidday and offer you the chance to buy an iPad for $18. Are they all scams? I suppose not. Are they a good idea? Let’s just say I’m hanging onto my pennies. You never know when the grandchildren of Zane Zor Zirbachen are going to show up with a tableful of heirlooms and I can repurchase my retirement plan for a cent. (Just kidding, Zane Zor!)

*To be clear, Zeekler cheated to the tune of hundreds of millions by ripping off investors, not just auction buyers.

Previous entries in our Who’s Cheating America? series:

Zip-A-Dee-Doo…D’Oh!
Lovers of Literature
Let’s Go Fly a Kite!
Sharing Time (or Doing It?)
The Lonesome Highway
The Overzealous Recyclers
The Opera Lover
Unclean Hands
The Smoke-Filled Room
Gung Ho!
The Billionaire vs. the People
The Highly Profitable Non-Profit
The Murky Coin Collector

Terrible Poem Breakdown: “Raise or Quit”

The Terrible Poem Breakdown series analyzes poems that are just not making it. We do this with the best intentions but pull no punches. Previous entries in our series can be found at the bottom of each post.

As always, the only rules are that the poems cannot be intentionally bad and the poet must be completely willing to submit to the analysis. I’m not qualified to judge poems for their formal qualities or even their poetic merit. I offer only the opinion of a willing reader and honest opinion provider.

Off we go!

Raise or Quit

I heard the story a hundred times

How my grampa and his brother Bill

Had worked for a farmer one summer picking beans.

Raise or quit, they told him one morning,

Just before the farmer sent them packing.

At lunch their mother sent them back.

That’s how life was for Hungarian immigrants

In Fort Atkinson, Wisconsin: You always went back.

Everyone in the room laughed. How foolish they’d been!

Thinking they were big shots!

Their mother, the embodiment of toughness and good sense, set them straight.

I carried these lessons deep within.

I’ve lived in many other places now.

Seen a lot of different people.

A lot of different parents.

Twenty years later I realize not everyone would have reacted the way we took for granted in Wisconsin.

Learned that there are parents who would think

That goddamn farmer could afford to throw another penny in the direction of two kids

Working like dogs on a hot day.

And that sometimes in life you need to say raise or quit

And have the guts to follow through.

The poet knows my weakness! Maybe it was my call for poems about Wisconsin. In any case, I have a soft spot for poems about grandfathers, and Wisconsin, and even Hungarian immigrants. I want to like this one, I really do!

Ugh…do I have to be critical? I guess that’s my job. The poem has problems: there’s some confusion about who’s exactly talking. Who’s telling the story? I had to read it twice to figure it out.

And then there’s…okay, I just don’t have it in me to keep going. I’m going to praise this one. I like the last line, which rings true to me (and more importantly, it just rings. And I love the twist, and the convoluted way it leaves us wondering. What do we think about this grandfatherly wisdom? And the narrator who sort of rejects it? What does it say about the Midwest and the humility of its people? Is that quality admirable or self-defeating?

The answer of course is: Yes.

That’s what I like about this one. Nice job, poet.

As always, my thanks to the poet for agreeing to submit to my scrutiny. Lesson to future poet-submitters: Play on my weaknesses! The Beatles, Shakespeare, Friday night high school basketball games, summers working on the farm, carnivals, the Honda CRX, Rocky Rococo’s pizza, New York City at night, Bologna in the snow…

Previous Terrible Poem Breakdowns:

“good poem”
“The Druid’s Lament”
“Summer Song”
“The Gentle German”
“There in the Valley of Elah”
“Ode to a 20-Year-Old ‘Poet’”
“The Dancer”
“Advice”
“May Day”
“Disgrace”