You know this review sucks because the writer spends most of it trying to get over her disdain of small independent presses and never acually succeeding rather than reviewing the collection at hand.

In short: It’s like reviewing an album on the basis of its art alone, most of the record unheard. Also, wow, Cynthia Reeser, editor-in-chief of Prick of the Spindle, “ghetto fabulous” is never, ever an insult. Goodness, I’d hate to see what would happen to you if you left the ivory tower and visited Brooklyn for a day!

I think what gets me more here is allegations of being “gimmicky.” I have many choice words for Niina Pollari (“unresponsive to my phone calls from time to time” and “brilliant” are a couple), but “gimmicky” most definitely isn’t one of them. It’s pretty lazy diction. From a lot of conversations I’ve had with her when we’re tossing ideas around, she’s not striving for any genre-specific aeshetic in particular. Perhaps it’s because a pattern emerges in her work that eludes any pre-existing poetry terminology that Reeser finds herself forced to use a word like “gimmicky.” Frequently, it’s just someone who’s still dragging her heels to adopt the advances in poetry made in 20th century who will try to box poetry into such silly abstracts.Or toss around a term like “gimmicky” with little regard to what it entails (we can make the argument that Thoreau was “gimmicky” too!)

On the basis of this review, Reeser’s world view seems stranded somewhere in the 19th. Honey, pole vault into the aughts already. The view’s great here and you’ll learn that there’s a place in pop culture for poetry! It doesn’t have to die a slow miserable death as a totally irrelevant usage of words, but can indeed continue to inform current events in its own way.

A sample, though, from the chapbook itself.