Now for a book like no other you’ll find reviewed or even mentioned on this site: THE TROUBLESOME AMPUTEE, a collection of poetry by John Edward Lawson. Not the flowery meter you’d expect from hearing the word “poetry,” but thoroughly twisted, bizarro stuff you’d expect from the publisher of such titles as MEAT PUPPET CABARET, RAZOR WIRE PUBIC HAIR and THE HAUNTED VAGINA (whose plot summary, to go off on a tangent, reads: “It’s difficult to love a woman whose vagina is a gateway to the world of the dead.” Tell me about it).
But hey, enough of my yakkin’; whaddaya say? Let’s talk poetry! It will trouble “serious” poets to see their beloved art form affixed to such subject matter as virgin sacrifice, cracked-open heads and puppets that prey upon children, so I’m all for it. Poetry is so pretentious, it’s in dire need of shake-up, so even if I can’t say I enjoyed the bulk of AMPUTEE, I can totally appreciate its intent. Let’s just say old ladies who wear scarfs around their necks and sip tea while surrounded by lots of cats are going to hate this book.
There are werewolf limericks, an account of Shari Lewis’ Lambchop attacking Super Virgin Dragon Girl High School, a poem that wonders if semen would be mistaken for anthrax. These verses drip with viscera, but also with humor. In fact, the funnier they are, the more I liked them – in particular, “Marvels of Horror,” a three-page series of skewed balladry about various comic-book heroes. Consider, for example, “The Human Torch”:
It seemed like a bright idea
at the time – the Olympics were
in a ratings slump, Death Row was
overcrowded, and all it took
was kerosene and a match to turn
the running of the torch into good TV
You get the picture. Consider that a very flexible litmus test. –Rod Lott
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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Lawson is a bizarro superstar – where’s his f***ing limo already?
Oh, I am SO getting this.