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w1tchfinger 's review for:
Ecstasy: Poems
by Alex Dimitrov
reflective
medium-paced
Ecstasy is a perfect example of my problems with modern poetry. This could have been a post on Tumblr.com. The language is too casual, the stories repetitive, the sensory nonexistent, flattening this book of poems into nothing more than a self-pitying diary. The author’s insistence on crowning himself A Real Poet every other line made me roll my eyes. When I wasn’t rolling my eyes, I was scoffing. The only redeemable part of this was “Today I Love Being Alive,” but then it was immediately followed by a horrendous poem called “Soul-Fuck.”
I will say, this author writes with a wonderful starkness. He can clearly write, maybe his other collections are better. I don’t think I’ll read them though.
Lastly, I listened to this on audiobook. The poet read it himself and he sounded so bored and disinterested, which also didn’t help to stir up any emotion in me other than a similar boredom and disinterest.
Bring back rhythmmmmmmmmm and heightened language gahhhhhhhh
I will say, this author writes with a wonderful starkness. He can clearly write, maybe his other collections are better. I don’t think I’ll read them though.
Lastly, I listened to this on audiobook. The poet read it himself and he sounded so bored and disinterested, which also didn’t help to stir up any emotion in me other than a similar boredom and disinterest.
Bring back rhythmmmmmmmmm and heightened language gahhhhhhhh