Mary Crockett Hill and I are writing a book together. It’s got some pretty jacked up stuff in it. Most of that comes from Mary. She’s got deep weird. It’s easy to have dinner at her house and not really notice the deep weird. Then you read her poetry and go — GAWP!
Her second book of poetry has just been published by Autumn House Press. It’s called “A Theory of Everything.”
It’s amazing to discover that even real poets dip into the realm of Gross Poetry from time to time. Here is an excerpt from “Jars” that is quite fitting for this blog which has hosted some of the grossest kid poetry ever writ. (By the way, I am not the SAM mentioned in the poem. Not me.)
“My brother Sam, for example, would fart
his rankest disappointments
into an empty mayonnaise jar
and keep it on the mantle
until we young ones returned.
“Edgar, I have something for you,”
he’d almost sing. A flying headbutt,
a body slam, and Edgar
was pinned to the floor, his nose
mashed in the open mouth of glass.”