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It’s always sad when the packaging of a book is nicer than the contents, and Charles Chalmers doesn’t help his case by making the cover to his mediocre tome a luscious blue shower-curtainy plastic held together with some solid wire. It’s a hefty book as well, almost an inch thick. Still, there’s about ten words on a page, and when those words are typical Rimbaud-esque juxtapositions like “birth control/ cut into both organs/ limit the cream fired/ a female grievance or a sharp tool” you just want to look at the nice cover and rub it again. Or how about this one “A humorous incident echoes in the wind/ A barometer bulges/ and Once again immortal God fishes the warm seas with the angels of hostility” Huh? This is what passes for poetry these days? Once again, nice shower curtain. Too bad you can’t judge a book by it’s cover. (SA)

poetry zine, almost an inch thick!, 5 1/2 x 4 1/4, Intrepid Tourist Press PO Box 403, Union Bay British Columbia, BC, V0R 3B0

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