Earthworms look like penises emerging from TV antenna gardens, dark clouds of dark birds flutter by, female forms haunt brains filled with lust, swords, syringes and a rooster-or is it a cock? What makes Haggard and Halloo’s winter issue is the kooky, quirky illustration and collage work of Travis Catsull-a mind seemingly warped enough for me to want to call him “friend.” The experimental poetry encountered here leaves me cold… but perhaps this is simply a reflection of my own mindset, in the midst of our summer’s heat wave. “Tongues can whisper the sweetest dreams,” claims Michelle Greenblatt in “Eat”. That much, at least, my tired brain can relate to: I seek this type of underlying sensuality in the poetry scattered around me, but not enough of it is present, in Haggard and Halloo, to hold my interest. “Arise,” an angry winged figure urges, in another of Catsull’s delightful illustrations, and the zine’s contributors could find inspiration here: this is, ultimately, a nice little zine full of talent, but passion is lacking. Haggard and Halloo is worth picking up and leafing through for the few little gems hidden here-and the many diamonds in the rough. (Andree Lachapelle)
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