Oh this is so painfully bad that I can’t even be bothered to quote it. Some extremely liberal and equally pathetic individual might call it poetry. They might even call it challenging or iconoclastic in an attempt to justify its existence. Unfortunately, it’s not even bad in the “so bad, it’s good” sense, not even in the “you gotta read this, it’s so fucking bad” sense, not even in the “if you changed everything in this zine including the fonts and the kind of paper it is printed on, then it would be good” sense. It’s just bad. And to make matters worse, I got it along with Bradley’s Alien to Mind’s Eye: Alien Poetry zine ($5) and his Mental Music Zine #5 ($1). The former is atrocious. The later is just music reviews. Now, I have made explicit requests to the powers that be at BP never to give me poetry for review because it doesn’t tickle my fancy. I have no appreciation for it. That’s not to say I hate it. I’m just indifferent. In cases where poetry has slipped by the editorial filter and reach my purview, I do my best to write gingerly around it and leave it be. However, in this case even a philistine like myself can recognize crap. (Then the pathetic liberal whines, “But that’s only your subjective opinion,” and I hit him in the head with a dictionary.) (TD)
chapbook, $2, 8 pages, Brad Pine, 2789 St. Paul Avenue, Niagara Falls ON L2J 2L3, [email protected]