You know that thing? That thing that’s wrong with most contemporary poetry? That thing that just never goes away, no matter how much Axe Body Spray you put on it, or how much duende you have specially imported from Duendia or wherever to stuff in its gills? Jennifer L. Knox doesn’t even bother trying to get rid of it. No ma’am, no sir. She just stands it up on its revolting quasi-biological stump in the middle of the poem and hangs popcorn decorations from it. It’s like she’s proud of her leprosy or something (there’s that L-word!). Well, damn it, good for her. Because this is leprosy like Grandma used to make it, steaming hot and fresh from the reactor.
Read the rest, plus 5 poems from Jen's forthcoming Bloof book The Mystery of the Hidden Driveway (and a bonus nonbook track) in the new issue of Octopus.
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