Title: This isn't even poetry!
Product review: It's chopped up prose. Other than being well-networked, well-befriended by those in the NYC literari establishment, I cannot figure out why this book receieved the plaudits it had. The lines are more clumsy than a 16-year-old scrawling in the corners of her notebook; the subject matter is some kind of haute bourgeoise apologist thing that either I just don't get or I don't want to be a part of. Or maybe it's Mademoiselle articles, half-baked and dowsed with a little psychobabble. Ugh!!!!
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