Few first books in experimental poetry have plunged the commode of conventionality like Michael Snyder's Poems Written Near a Laundromat.
Shekure Alakusoglu writes: "It's coitus imagination and high-jinx jingles are likely to blow your panties off into new dimensions of the cosmoverse, and standing there naked, you will feel no remorse giving God back the fig leaves...Modern Poetry has just dropped an atomic bomb on the novel!"
A Canto of Rant and Lament for 21st Century Leftovers
i
I am the mute deaf blind younger old person
Of the opposite sex who is more or less
Educated than you are
And holds bad or good religious
Political social opinions. So let's step into the tub together, shall we?:
The human condition[er] conjoins drastic [sham]poos on split ends of the dynamically Lobed--
it is Judgment day for bad hair. The bottom is draining.. We are behind
Half-steps
The evolution that could help us through confessions of diagnostics of savings
From oblivion ...
In lounge hall life and sums of good movies do we forget
The D{ivorce}bomb that dudded nuclear fami(lies)...
There is a ton of wanton candy wrappers
Oscillating in pop-up camper credo..
By pecking order they croon and brood a callus hubbub....
