the day I turn to poetry. At least as it pertains to baseball.
Although I write the weekly “Torah Haiku” for the NJ Jewish News, I generally don’t like the genre. Actually it’s not so much that I don’t like it as I don’t get it. Like wine. I probably wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a $1,000 bottle, a $100 bottle, or a $10 bottle (the screw-top might give it away, though).
The same for poetry. I don’t know what’s good or bad. It’s too subjective. As is fiction, which is why I rarely write about it here; I know there are writers who put their heart and soul into their project, so who am I to comment on its merits?
That said, I just want to call attention to, without commenting on, Full Count: The Book of Mets Poetry, by Frank Messina.
is available on Amazon.com,
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Ron, you’re selling yourself short. Of course you know what makes for good poetry. It has to be entertaining. I’ll have to agree with Mark Healey and Jimmy Kimmel when they refer to Messina as a “most hilarious” and “entertaining poet”. Anyone who entitles poems “Psycho Chick Goes to the Ballpark” and likens watching Mets games to being sucked into a “Meat Grinder” has a firm grip on the experience as a Mets fan. When you say “you just don’t get it” maybe it’s time to uncork the proverbial bottle and try actually reading the poetry sometime. His Karpas Haiku written for Michael Dorf’s Celebrity Seder this year was equally entertaining. Shalom! David.
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