She

I seldom read poetry. It's not that I don't like it. I simply require a context in which to put myself to properly read it. So sitting at home on my couch isn't that context. But it's what I had, so I made due. Sadly, that means I didn't give Mr Williams HIS proper due, because it would have been better had I taken him to a cemetery or the lake or something.

I discovered him totally by accident on Pandora. And I liked what I heard. And then friends recommended him to me. So I hunted down this book. And it's a lovely little book.

The poems vary in length. Some are a few pages (never very many), and some are a line or two. The shorter ones reminded me of the Waukegan Pepsodent Conundrum, by a certain G.V.–interesting, pointed, a bit obscure–but it's poetry, so you can usually infer the emotional intent.

And the emotional intent behind most, if not all, these poems, is melancholic, tragic, a bit lovelorn. One, I do believe, is about molestation, and utterly heartbreaking.

I will continue to hunt down Mr Williams' writings.