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Title: How come there's no lower rating?
Review: I'm glad that Jewel is the first to admit that her terrible book of "poetry" wouldn't have been published had it not been for her singing success. I've read a lot of poetry, and this is by FAR one of the most pathetic attempts I've ever read. She tries, a little too hard, to write like water, fluid and moving, but instead writes fragments of thoughts that can barely stand alone. I pity anyone who actually bought this book. I read it in a bookstore just to see what kind of poet Jewel was, and I can say that my expectations hit the target. The poem about your breasts is absurd--just like your new song "Hands." When it comes to poets like Deborah Garrison and Rita Dove, or singers like Sarah McLachlan and Lauryn Hill, Jewel is as far in talent as is Alaska to Florida.
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