The Hole Between Mine and Yours:
Liquid Logic from a Dirty Tumbler
By Christina M. Grey
A Poetic Review: H.A. Parker
At first I thought I was ornate,
A twisted-grading heavy weight,
Until this fashion, sweet as dew,
This book was novel, fresh and new.
You wrote, I like, I must admit,
It reads with some heroic wit.
Like Swift, Arbuthnot, and Parnell,
Who wrote their writings, raising hell.
Their friends include the blessed Pope,
Whose words are fine like soft green soap.
While you uncovered something swift,
I find some writings gone adrift,
Like Sideways, Going, Slumber Fast,
Those poems, I say, won’t even last.
Because the problem is sublime,
I will not take up that much time.
I find your rhythms done in haste,
That makes the poems look like a waste,
Like mixed elixirs, calling mom,
Ice cream screamers, and Eros’s Psalm,
Pausing for arrows, if they’re point,
I know it feels, they’re out of joint,
Like aqua olive lime pear tea,
That makes one grand disharmony,
And smoking weed, and stock of leaf,
These words do choose my disbelief,
Words you use like my vagina,
Have no need like Aunt Jemima.
These terms are just a random snip,
Of these big poems, done bit by bit.
If you fix them, one here and there,
These poems are great, I say, ‘I swear.’
I know, I see, talent unique,
It’s good, it’s spunk, it’s fresh physique,
Like Melting, Nest Doll, and Snow White,
I find these charms a pleasing sight.
So please take up a poet’s plea,
To fix this poor cacophony,
Before I put this book straight down,
And start to make a lowly frown.
I hope you love the poet’s news,
And take me up for my sheer views.
But if you reject my subtle clue,
I wish to bid a fair adieu.
Parker’s Overall Grade: