dry tears, is all…

Book review:

All of Us: The Collected Poems

by Raymond Carver (1938-1988)

American poet, short story writer

386 pages

Repeat after me: à chacun son goût.

This is my first experience with Carver’s poetry.

I’ll say this right out: I do not disdain Carver’s poems, neither do I feel any urge to read them again.

He didn’t bother with the lyric voice. Don’t look for any sparks. Occasionally, one will feel moved to dry tears.

Carver offers a monochrome oeuvre. It’s prose in disguise. In some dusty corners Carver is included in the loosely defined group of poets who write so-called “dirty realism.” Think Bukowski (but Carver isn’t as strident as Bukowski, not nearly as imperious as Bukowski).

Carver’s poetic efforts are better than dirt, but what he writes really isn’t poetry in any flavor that appeals to me.

…à chacun son goût

* * * * * *

Book review: Shakespeare’s Wife

Germaine Greer went overboard a bit…

click here

As with another eye: Poems of exactitude with 55 free verse and haiku poems,

and the rest of my poetry books are for sale on Amazon (paperback and Kindle)

and free in Kindle Unlimited, search Amazon for “Richard Carl Subber”