Yes, Cancer French Kisses
Poems
978-1-68003-115-7 Paperback
6 x 9 x 0.22 in
80 pp.
Pub Date: 04/24/2017
Available
An “X-ray” of Berry's two flings with Multiple Myeloma condensed into haikus. Except where he fudges-out of the haiku syllable-count strait jacket, then calls them cell phone texts, or telegrams, or poemettes if in a poodle mood. Or finger sandwiches in which the baloney is bigger than the bread. Sometimes he raps. Beowulf: Oft Scyld Scefing sceabena preatum. Jump to William Langland (Piers Plowman): A fair field full of folk. On to Shakespeare: Beated and chopp’d with tann’d antiquity. And James Jibber Joyce: Seaspawn and seawrack, the nearing tide, the rusty boot. Snotgreen, bluesilver rust. Eminem gets the last word-spasm: And just blurt this berserk and bizarre shit that works . . . . Berry didn’t battle cancer, but embraced her: Miss Myeloma or Mylo.
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Published by Texas Review Press