A author juxtaposes poetry and lists of conversational icebreakers in his collection of light verse.
The poems in this book offer tributes to parents and grandparents, meditations on love and life, and small sermons on how to find happiness, peace of mind and success. While George uses rhyme, both external and internal, it is sparse and wonderfully unobtrusive. He achieves this effect by sprinkling his rhymes here and there as needed, like a chef preparing a carefully spiced tropical dish. His book uses island syntax with similar control, just enough to give a touch of flavor without devolving into a parody of itself. The poetry generally lacks strong imagery, which makes the infrequent image sparkle brighter for its rarity: “Come closer and cover me with your sheet of passion / And let’s polish our lips with wetness as we caress.” A similar strategy appears to underlie the “conversational triggers,” which have little or no connection to the poems they face. For the most part, the icebreakers are extremely banal—some to the point of absurdity—and this appears to be precisely the point of lines such as: “She’s so precious. Can you play pool? Some things will never change.” Just as the poems turn up the occasional rhyme, Creole grammar, and sporadic image, these trite statements contain the odd thought-provoking declaration: “Why is the IRS so powerful? Is there a hidden purpose to mega churches?” Such statements become that much more powerful by their proximity to the more hackneyed sentiments.
A small treat that poetry-lovers can finish in one sitting.
