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Splattered Earth

I can’t usually read regular poetry. It makes my vision blur and/ or my eyes cross. When I received Rob Taylor’s travel poems I wasn’t excited. They’re called Splattered Earth and there is a faded, 15X photocopied rendition of Mao on the front. But here’s the thing. I liked them much much more than I thought I would. His beats at times can feel predictable, almost too rhythmic, too reliant on the punchline, it still satisfies and intensifies the culture he is trying to translate, or rather, absorbs it. The poems are sincere and everyman, and very much teeter with the lonely traveler quest. None of it lost me or hazed me and I appreciated the formal letter he included which was typed and signed, as well as the dedication to his mom. Shucks! (laura mcCoy)

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