Monday, July 7, 2008

Detroit doesn't do poetry.

Jack White writes a poem, and the city starts a'bustlin'.

I am an avid reader/writer/lover of poetry (I even forced myself to read Billy Corgan's book of poetry*), and as much as I would like to review White's poem, anything I can say will either be viewed as me being "bitter"** or "obsessed". Seeing as I am still tired from the weekend, just follow the links I post to read about stuff that I could have written about better***.

*I tried to give that shit a chance. But it was still shit.
**I have no agenda to make Jack White cry. I was never friends with him, I was never in a band with him, I never hooked up with him, etc.****
***oh snap.
****triple snap.

1 comment:

Angela said...

Yeah, Elle. I tried Corgan's poetry, too. Not good. Not good unless you imagine him singing the poems. Even then, super bad.