Poetry. At turns humorous and profound, this collection spans Kennedy's writing career from 1955 to date. It contains 334 brief poems: lyrics and story poems, epigrams, epitaphs, haiku, poems of no special kind; on the themes of sex, the ages of man, poets, and more.
A sample, "Ars Poetica," goes:
"The goose that laid the golden egg Died looking up at her crotch To find out how her sphincter worked. Would you lay well? Don't watch."
These little poems are addictive. You keep finding yourself saying, Just one more...this collection spans 6 decades, and includes poems from The New Yorker, The Boston Globe, and Sewanee Review. I especially found myself laughing out loud over the section devoted to the complexities of publishing, being a writer, dealing with reading fans, critics, etc. No one I'm aware of matches Kennedy's sharp, witty humor and embarrassing insight into human thoughts and emotions. And for anyone who wines about rhyming poetry, here is his brilliant answer:
ON THE MONOTONY OF METER Who that damns meter for its lack of variety Wishes his heart beat with more spontaneity?
Kennedy understands the precise beat of the heart and the challenge in meeting that precision with words. A master of concision.