A critical review of “Big Bag of Douche” by Murray

I recently had the pleasure of reading a new work by poet, Murray. In this piece he transcends the trappings of metaphor and alliteration that often plague young writers and delivers a message with clarity and without apology. Stripped bare of ornament, Murray borrows the form of Haiku to deliver a message that grabs the living squarely by the shoulders and looks them in the eye, as well as rattles the bones of dead literati. It says what we all too often long to say but cannot find the courage or the words or pander to the constraints of what is considered an “ordered society.” But, like all revolutionaries, clearly Murray has signed R. Mutt on his urinal and hung it as art in a gallery to make us gasp or giggle in embarrassment or walk out of the gallery in a huff. And though many will debate from this time forward, as they did with Duchamp and the Dadaists, whether or not it is art, no one can deny that it is. And now that it has been done, it is forever in the history books and time can only embrace it as the gospel of innovation.

Though I wouldn’t use the term alliteration, this piece is not without rhythm and repetition. It flows from tongue and teeth and makes one want to close their eyes and soak in its canter:

You are such a dick
You are such total dick
I hate you, you dick

And sit back one more time and say, “read it again, dear. More slowly this time.”

Tom