Yes, Virginia, there IS a book of poetry and poetry-criticism (mostly the latter) blurping like bitumen though the constricted pipelines of my brain, blurping, blorping toward publication. As I have joked elsewhere, a guaranteed worst-seller! Anyway, here's the back-cover blurp... er, blurb, unless the publisher thinks of something better:
Questions, questions, questions...
So does Robert Frost’s poem “Fire and Ice” actually MEAN anything? What about Jonathan Swift’s “Verses on the Death of Doctor Swift”? Why are the profligate professors flapping all over the map about THAT poem? And how does it happen that after four centuries the same damn professors STILL don’t have a clue about Shakespeare’s “The Phoenix and the Turtle”? Okay, admittedly a clue or four about this part of the poem, or that bit. But no general idea whatsoever about the poem as a whole. Nothing at all. Nada. Zilch. When will our theory-infested, jargon-ridden blithering class manage to decipher it? Never? Or maybe when they read this brilliant book? Again, what’s the deal with all those ultra-weird Bob Dylan songs on the Basement Tapes? Uh, let me guess, did Bobby plagiarize those hillbilly-flavored goofs from somewhere? What?—from Shakespeare?? Are you joshing me? Wait a minute, how much Shakespeare is in this book anyway? Quite a lot? Maybe 30% or more? Shakespeare... wow... seriously boring. Worse than frigging high school! What?—and this book has some of Andersen’s own poetry too? Poetry from grubby, redneck, tar-tarnished ALBERTA? From a cabbie??! LMFAO! C’mon, admit it, this is a really, really boring book, right? Total snooze-button, right?
Tedious answers inside!
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Ah yes, have some fairly definite ideas about the front-cover too, but your alleged critic will be coy about THAT. Hey, it'll be a bit cartoonish, with a teensy pic of John Lennon in one corner, saying, "...and for those of you who want to know why Old Flat-Top has feet down below his knees, that'll be answered inside too..."