This is why poetry has a bad name. Poetry about how life sucks, poetry about violence, and death, and killing. Poetry about depression and suicide. Gee, wonder why nobody’s ever written about any of this before? Your life sucks, blah, blah, blah. And then just as I begin to completely despair of finding any quality here, there’s a poem I like, “Texas wants me dead.” “The State of Texas wants me dead … Whenever the phone rings, it’s somebody uttering death threats on behalf of Texas … The State of Texas will not rest until I am dead and there is nothing I can do about it.” It’s not enough to save this zine, but it does show promise. (KR)
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