Charles Harper Webb’s eccentric and distinct writing style makes this collection of poetry a funny and charmingly memorable read. A melting pot of pop culture, historical references, and everyday life, Webb’s poems are refreshingly candid and straightforward.
There’s some degree of talent behind these poems, and few sound good or include some fun turn of phrase, but what’s the point? The poet has nothing to say. Even his sideways glances at meaningful or emotional topics are glib and deflecting and afraid of sincerity. These read like decent first drafts that fail to reach the heart of their intended subjects. He had a thought he felt was clever, jotted it down, patted himself on the back, and moved on. There’s very little real reflection, insight, or feeling in any of these.
I like Webb's poetry--it's so strange, random, and personal. His poetry topics range from worm farms to Cyclops to taking out the trash. I love his poem "How to Live" in this collection, which at times, seems to fixate too much on his own experiences as a husband and a father.
He mentions more than once that his marriage is in trouble or he has had a fight with his wife. If Webb wants to turn to a marital fight into poetry, though, he should listen to Sara Groves' song "Roll to the Middle":
We just had a World War III here in our kitchen We both thought the meanest things And then we both said them We shot at each other till we lost amunition
Anyway, Webb DOES have some great stuff in this collection. In "I Never Had an Imaginary Friend," he writes:
Everything seemed friendly in those days: the grass that left green blessings on my pants, the baseball glove that couldn't wait to hold my hand, even the sun which, when I went shirtless on the beach, stared at me with so much love I burned.
Poems easy to read and to be entertained by. A joy to understand poems without struggling to understand the poet's life. I'll look for more of his poems