| Title | : | Piss On It: New And Selected Poems |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | - |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Kindle , Hardcover , Paperback , Audiobook & More |
| Number of Pages | : | 24 |
| Publication | : | Published December 1, 2017 |
Piss On It: New And Selected Poems Reviews
-
A collection of poems by Arthur Graham. My favorites were:
-The Internet
-Coming Clean
-Amsterdam
-Beneath the Junipers
-Shrapnel Town
I'd like to thank the author, Arthur Graham, for sharing an e-copy with me.
4**** -
i
liked the way
these poems were shaped
their forms
elegant
the words
concise
i caressed
the smooth lines
as they
swept in flux.
it passed the time
as I applied
an sss
to my new piercing. -
Rating: 3* of five
I hate poetry. For someone to write poetry that I give three stars to (who hasn't bribed me with sex) is amazing. I know Arthur as well as one can know someone via the internet over the span of five years, so none of what he wrote about in this small, tight collection came as a surprise to me. I'm pretty much beyond being offended by anything except greed, conservative/libertarian/fascist politics, and religion, so despite my utter shuddering yuck-ick-ptui reaction to hetero sex, I was down with Arthur's observations about hooking up at forty-ish.
My favorite poem:
T(h)e Internet
...is really only
good for like
two or maybe
three things:
Meeting women,
meeting women,
and publishing
really bad
poetry. -
I just finished reading this collection of poems. 'Minimalist Lifestyle' and 'The Internet' were the stand outs for me. Honest with a raw dry humour!
-
I Love You Despite Your Pome
I could have loved you madly
If it wasn't for the verse.
Instead it ended sadly
When you told me mine was worse. -
Thank you to Karen for reading (an recommending) all of Arthur’s work and reviewing it and his little potty mouth with her little potty mouth on Goodreads. After a year of kissing the royal literary establishment, this coming year I vow to read and support more “alternative” stuff and not be so shy about supporting Arthur, who is refreshingly profane and often hilarious. Oh, you are too fairly compared to Bukowski, Arthur, live with it!
Another One Done
It's been said before, but poetry
is a lazy form of literature.
Anyone can write a fucking poem.
Look, I'm doing it right now, and I'm about as lazy as they come.
Shrapnel Town
There comes a point when you've lived there long enough,
you can't even walk down the goddamn street without breaking your own heart several times.
That spot by the lake, and that bar where we met, and that place you once lived down the road.
Back in simpler times, these were all fragments of a life
which once somehow
made sense.
It was all so long ago, this town and those days, but the shrapnel
still hits me
every time. -
Kindly PayPal $5 to [email protected] for your signed, handmade print copy. Otherwise, free ebooks
here. -
Before reading Piss On It, I’ll admit that (generally speaking) I liked rather than loved the poetry of Arthur Graham’s that I had read. This collection has just changed that.
Firstly, he’s cleverly taken a few of his best previous poems and placed them alongside new ones which are just as good or better, making a very satisfactory whole.
Secondly, I feel he’s improved his poetic writing style and it appears that he’s spent more time on carefully crafting form.
Thirdly, he’s demonstrated that he can write more than simple-worded free verse (by paying attention to form but also) by selecting carefully chosen, fitting words and showing that he can write with rhyme and assonance very well too.
“Still I wouldn't trade
a night in your arms
for all the whores
in Amsterdam.”
“I've roasted
on roadsides
& I've frozen
in forests
& I've howled
with coyotes
while drunk amongst
the bones.”
“Drinking gin
beneath the junipers,
my flask turns
bottoms up
And I watch you
as you die
beside your own
sad empty cup”
Fourthly, the content of the poems is Graham’s best, where familiar themes like sex and little wry jokes are still prevalent, but they’re mixed with a wider view of the world; a world that is both beautiful and bullshit.
And some of these poems even feel like they’ve been written specifically for his Goodreads readers and online community, when he’s calling out all the bullshitters and dick-sucking authors; which one can comfortably do in the realms of poetry inside the pages of a book more than one would be able to do with a standard-written blog.
“We have nothing but praise for the work of our friends.
Our friends' work could use work,
but don’t tell them.”
“The Internet
...is really only
good for like
two or maybe
three things:
Meeting women,
meeting women,
and publishing
really bad
poetry.”
And fifthly, the best line in the book is: “She was the classiest broad I ever groped behind a dumpster”. It feels like only Graham could come up with such a beautiful line, and I think it sums up what Graham’s poetry writing is all about.
So I’m only rating this book 4.5 stars, ‘cos I don’t want my praise going to Arthur’s head, where, god forbid, he might start to take himself seriously and start writing poetry that doesn’t reflect the Graham we know and love. -
Some poems I recognise, some new to me. Usually I like the concise nature of everything Arthur Graham has a hand in, but this time I felt shortchanged in Arthur. Needs more Arthur. For what is here though the sardonic weariness and heartsick glamour is very present as always. When Arthur appears on his covers the world is given a gift, and I look forward to a low-key release of these collected in one artsy volume, perfect for any coffee table with a very wonky leg. Arthur’s poems are cheeky and painful, worth a shot for sure.
-
I loved these!, and no, I am not taking the piss, I genuinely did. I also love the cover, it's like a trendy folk singer from 1960's Greenwich Village, with the text reminiscent of a wanted poster from the wild west. No way I would piss on that!, not even for money. Too cool.
Speaking of piss, I must visit the Thomas Crapper, Friday is MillerTime! and I have taken on board too many cocktails.
Big Thanks to AG for the freebee, with the $5 saved I can now afford a pizza. -
Not a bad collection, shame it isn't very long (not a penis joke).
Arthur gives us a glimpse of himself, watching old ladies cleaning washing machines, sex behind dumpsters (the washing machine lady? who knows, that bit ain't specified), and his aspirations to kiss more ass and suck more dicks.
Favourite poem was "Another One Done"
It's been said
before, but
poetry
is a lazy
form of
literature.
Anyone
can write a
fucking poem.
Look,
I'm doing it
right now,
and I'm about
as lazy as
they come. -
Thank you very much for making this a free ebook for all, Arthur. Thank you kindly... As this collection of comedic poetry is pretty fantastic, especially for such a short and rather rough & raunchy work of sleazy comedy. Many of the poems are hilarious and relatable for many reasons. Some are gross and are intended to take you out of your comfort zone a little bit in their odd, slightly off putting sort of humor. Some are a bit more poignant and mix crude language with a profound and gentle honesty hidden in humor of the blackest variety (a style of writing that I have always thought was quite beautiful).
The collection is extremely horribly awfully very highly largeloggously levershipendixtallyinitaly (ok those last two weren't words (believe it or snot) but they mine as well be for the simile's sake) short, of course, and left me wanting more. More, more, more! Consume! Consume! Consume! Well, maybe consumption is better than hip far leftists will tell you, as it allows one to read stuff like this.
And, yeah, I will admit the collection was far from perfect, but it was extremely entertaining and funny so why not fall in love with it to some certain sort've kind of extent, eh? -
Arthur Graham, a handsome devil on a chair from Salt Lake City, is writing the sort of poetry Morrissey might have penned if he came from Utah and reversed his celibacy to the nth degree. As in the last collection, I Wrote a Poem About You, beneath Graham’s debauched humour is that prickle of pathos, where the poet permits us that moment of intimacy before he resumes taking us vigorously from behind. In this collection, the bitter side of serial philandering and versifying in a shruggy world over-saturated with hedonistic versifiers is reflected in poems ‘The Internet’ and ‘Mistress’. The penultimate poem ‘Shrapnel Town’ is my favourite, a strong account of a Casanova’s tragedy, and the final poem is a late-night barroom yelp that delivers a strong sting of recognition. Keep versifying, AG.
-
A look into one man's asshole as well as his heart. Great closers with 'Shrapnel Town' & 'Piss On It'!
Only 3 stars because it wasn't my favorite, but Graham is always worth the giggles you get. -
Hey, toss that copy of Gone Girl on a Train or whatever basic-ass, trendy book you’re reading right now into the garbage bin and read this instead.
-
I love poetry. But I loathe a poem that drags on and on. I don't know but I start thinking 'just get to the point, I've got laundry to do!' If I want to read stories, I'll get a book of stories. Anyway, I try to write poetry that gets to the point for assholes like me and this guy's stuff gets me kickin like a cheerleader. This collection contains 21 short shots of piss with sass. And with his sex rocket wit and shameless images sharply worded, he's always a good time. If I had to pick favorites: 'Minimalist Lifestyle', 'Mistress', and 'Coming Clean'.
-
Hey, toss that copy of Gone Girl on a Train or whatever basic-ass, trendy book you’re reading right now into the garbage bin and read this instead. And while you are at it, just copy and past any of Dig-Doug Hacksaw's reviews you might find and REDUCE REUSE RECYLCE because the Earth is all superfuckedup and I only got one mother, how bout y'all?
-
Looking every bit like Halston hanging out front of Max's Kansas City (while a blonde Lou muscles-up "Rock and Roll" inside), bulge-packing poet Graham lays it on the line here. What is 'it,' exactly? Well ostensibly his dick, but that's only at first glance.
Two poems herein, "Shrapnel Town" and "Minimalist Lifestyle," betray the 'fuck-cum-drink' Maslow's Hierarchy that Graham swears to subscribe to elsewhere. One quick read would show you a youngish rake, a second a rather big-hearted complexity behind all that wang-dang-doodle. I don't doubt him the wunderkindededness (real word) or the prodigiousity (realer word) of his cocksmanshipism (realest word); somebody has to be fucking all those pent-up doubters in Salt Lake City. I can't help but feel a kinship with him, excepting the crusty fucksheets of newly flagged-staked ass—a sort of brotherhood among drinkists and debauchers smart enough to know that howling at the moon in the middle of the desert may sound cool as fuck on paper, but when morning comes you'd better be goddamn sure you left enough in the bottle to drink yourself straight.
Maybe I'm projecting my own shit, but methinks AG knows these immutable truths his own self: the nightwolves are laughing at your pitiable lamentations, and the bottle can never love you back. That's what I see behind these poems: a coeval castaway signaling 'SOS' while surrounded by millions. I send my signal flare in response, brother, if only to illumine this night however briefly.
(Still think he shoulda named it or a future poetry collection Moby-Dick.) -
So Arthur appears on the cover beneath the title PISS ON IT. Is that an invitation? Ahahaha.
Good stuff, deals with Arthur's arthurtypal passions ;) He'll be glad to know that I still can't tell where and when he's joking, which is surprising because I consider myself THE foremost scholar of Graham!
Graham treads this material well, though it is well trodden. I don't open these chapbooks expecting a nuanced opinion on the current tragedy of white genocide in South Africa, but you know, if Graham enjoys surprising his audience there are many new ways he could choose to do it!
(Just gonna spoiler the next line in case family and IRL friends choose this moment to dip into my reviews... FAMILY! Leave it spoilered. I'm about to be rude.) -
A mix of some new and some previously released poetry, highlighting Graham’s alluring style. Many were sexual and gratuitous, but the more introspective ones were those I identified with and enjoyed the most. It doesn’t hurt that it has of the best covers I have seen on a zine. Could’ve been longer though. Here are my favorites:
Mistress
(Anti)Climax
Shrapnel Town
Amsterdam
Another One Done -
Arthur Graham is a busy man - he spends his time trying to impregnate the world with his vile logic (and judging by the cover, he's now touring with The Bad Seeds) - so we should be thankful he has taken the opportunity to vomit out these foul little vignettes for our edification. Some are more Situationist graffiti than poems, some share way too much information, and some (Shrapnel Town in particular) are strangely moving. Anyone with the balls to heckle Bill Hicks deserves a hearing.
If you can't find the time to read this then I strongly suggest you sit down and re-evaluate your life.
NB: Do not attempt to urinate on the eBook edition. -
Always a fan of AG's poetry, which I feel just gets better and better, and I loved the poetry in this book. Among old favorites, I loved the new poems. They always feel dirty and sexy and raw and I love it dirty and sexy and raw (lolz). I was a particular fan of 'The Year He Got Divorced', 'The Internet', 'Priorities', 'Vondelpark', '(Anti)Climax', and 'Amsterdam', but it's difficult to pick favorites at all. Well done.
-
Great collection! Always a pleasure to read your poems...
-
5 stars? Really? Like, shouldn't Shakespeare's sonnets get 5 stars and drivel by Arthur Graham get 1? Fuck Shakespeare. Fuck poetry. Except this is poetry I actually like. Didn't hurt that the price was right.
-
In this collection, Arthur is the center of the author’s equivalent of a matryoshka doll, the core that got most of us started, but will inevitably lead to our self destruction if we don’t temper it. Arthur is uncompromising. He will live first and write second, and since experience is the core of good writing, this works.
There is some great introspection here, and in the poems that simply describe his experiences, there is a somber tone that permeates the work.
Authors so often can be found saying, “you should be writing!” which is so fucking droll and passe. Do whatever you want. Write the book or don’t.
I found this short collection refreshing because it instead said, “you could be living, but it comes at a price, as does everything.”
A much better edict to live by, if you ask me. -
This chapbook starts w/ drinking your own urine (which I presume is better than gulping another's) and roasting on roadsides, so you're in for a sweet & sour treat. Irony galore about industry whores and irksome exes. An admittedly lazy but catchy read. I'd have liked to see the mermaid poem elongated into the Siren twist it seemed to be taking. Lots of sex that sounds like cows eating cud. Page by minute page, the laughs are like Your Mom's House podcast w/ appearances by the "Piss on me, beat me, try it out" guy as a precursor. I like reading about a guy unafraid to admit his pu$$y obsession in this generation of feminist prudes who still somehow appear on and frequent OnlyFans. "The Classiest Broad I Ever Groped Behind a Dumpster" is def a piece I have to share w. my comedy nerd writer friends. There are a few pensive points about places and girls, making this a li'l Henry Millerish.
-
Handsome, cynical, talented bastard!
I laughed a lot reading these; and some pieces knife right in, make you bleed, like that shrapnel he carries with him. OK, we're all walking wounded, but this guy does it with memorable panache. -
While I admit I want to read this on the bus if not only to just to shock the shit outta my fellow commuters and take a picture of them reading the title, I also want to bring this with me on my way to work so I can remember how great it is to read a poet who is just plain brave.
I won't compare this to Bukowski. It isn't. And not just because I don't like Bukowski. But I won't compare it to him because Graham's confessional poetry approaches subjects with the kind of grit that is ultimately intimate. With it's rough edges and scandalous subject matters, comes with it too a soft snapshot of emotion and vulnerability embedded within.
With brevity and thoughtfulness, the tone rendered in this collection made me hurt and laugh and blush. And it doesn't rhyme. -
Ok, so how do you review a chap book by a friend that contains these lines?
We have nothing but praise for the work of our friends.
Our friends' work could use work,
but don't tell them.
Of course you give it Five Stars because even the whores of the literary industrial complex work day jobs.
P.S. (As in Piss) Got to love self-deprecating irony.
