IF PETS WROTE POEMS

Sixteen short poems by, purportedly, the pets of as many poets.

Posing cutely alongside their doll-like owners in Sonke’s painted portraits, the furry, feathered, or scaly animal authors (most of whom are white) make a winsome gallery, though Johnston Taylor squanders most of their appeal. For one, they all sound alike in the poems despite their diversity of breeds and species. Moreover, the author does provide side introductions to both poets and pets, but any opportunities for wit or wordplay will be lost, since few of the poems she cites as her models are likely to be familiar to young audiences, and she doesn’t reproduce any of them here for comparison. Even exceptions such as a “Green Eggs and Ham” pastiche (“Hello! My name is Sam-I-Am. / Here, try a piece of purple yam”) and a few lines by Edgar Allan Poe’s cat on a certain raven’s fate—“Wings so black they blend with night, wings…to quell my appetite?!”—lack verve or originality. A fox standing outside Lucille Clifton’s door sending both a literal and metaphorical message about “embracing the wild” makes a memorable finale, but readers will have to hunt for hints of inventive language among the rest. Emily Dickinson’s Newfie panting “I’m Carlo! Who are you? / Are you a canine too?” may not be bad for a dog, but human poets need to work harder.

Doesn’t do proper justice to the poets, the pets, or the promising premise.