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Title: Sicklied o'er with the pale cast of naught...or, An Afternoon Crap
Review: A seam of phoniness runs through this prosaic midden like a seam of gravel and sand in a guano mine. These are tawdry, orphaned paragraphs with no visible means of support, strutting around town in their mentoring overalls, hammering away at their always-bogus magical realism composed of cheap lumber infested with 27 termites. The entire collection reeks with the stench of slowly evaporating embalming fluid while it embarrasses the occasional conscious reader with its contrived exhibitions of forced benevolence and the kind of deep thought prevalent among extinct tribes of pygmys. The overarching earnestness is stifling--an evening of dental surgery without aesthetics.
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