A prose poem, in seventeen parts, by Erie, Pennsylvania poet Ron Androla. Small town angst surfaces here; the poet is unemployed, he admits his sympathy for the president because we live in "the strangest exploding times ever dreamed in history," and arrives at the decision to "fit into society by smiling alot." He understands and inwardly shudders at the slow economic and political decomposition all around--and vents poetically tinged diatribes against the media and government on his attic-room word-processor. Sexually, this long poem is pure Androla--due to an S/M allusion involving Hillary Clinton, a literary magazine in California strenuously rejected MEDITATIONS before this SMILING DOG publication. Dean Creighton's letterpress edition is tastefully rendered with a linoleum print cover in three colors.--Kurt Nimmo
Androla goes Eastern Philosophy in these short meditations based on the tales of philosophers like Lao Tzu. There are 17 bursts of wisdom, seemingly inspired more by drug abuse and whisky than spiritual enlightenment, with deep lines like "2. chain-smoke. smoke another bowl. gulp more coffee. consider tolerable alcoholism" and "12. avoid the kissing wife, pull away from her sad, shivering hug. make her slap yr face & curse yr very existence."--Oberc
This review originally appeared in TapRoot Reviews #5,
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