The Voice of My Mind, by author T. A. Fish, is an avant-garde poetry collection that took over 5 years to complete. It took me a lot less time to read – and I’m sorry to say, I rushed through the last few because they were just too similar and the structure too painful to read.

For example:

There was a little boy,
Staring quietly, without coy.

Upon, seeing his friend,
His eyes light up, end to end.

The punctuation was unnecessary for starters – but…eyes lighting up end to end? What does that even mean? With regards to the content – most of the poems were about death or depressing/negative topics although the second half of the book perked up a little. I think like with all poetry, you do have to be in the mood for certain poems at certain times in your life. For me right now, this was just a book filled with poorly written and structured negativity.


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