I really admire this author, but not this sonnet. I really enjoy anal intercourse (Eat kitty litter and die, straight boy!), but I don't enjoy writing or reading about it. Sorry. Rose justly compares it unfavorably to French Braids, and I have no problem making unfavorable comparisons of our efforts to well-known poems, whether on this board or the Deep End, where I have just very favorably compared David Rosenthal to Dick Davis, causing Maz to take umbrage. Bob Crawford and Kate Light are the two sexiest poets of my acquaintance writing, and this, alas, is clever, not sexy.
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