Plug for the art of others: cormorant’s wife

If you are like me and the holiday times create a thirst for poetry, consider the recently released first book of poems by poet Joan Kane, the Cormorant Hunter’s Wife. (Note: The poet is a friend of selfish crab.) Poet Kane has a life history worth covering in newspaper, and indeed several have (see 1, also 2.) The first run is almost sold out, and it’s unclear if there will be a second. Purchase it directly through paypal, or if you prefer giving your money to middlemen, through Amazon. Support the arts, and a great Columbian. I could gush more about Poet Kane, but– actually I will. Let’s get to it: Joan Kane makes me feel stupid. Not just stupid, but dumb as paint. Joan Kane makes me stutter. Joan Kane has the cumulative life experience of 8 women, and luckily has the mind artful enough to share it with the rest of us. Joan Kane teaches me a new word everyday, with emoticons. Joan Kane quotes apt verse. APT VERSE, people. Joan Kane can pun “eskimo” like wow.

Buy her book. Crab out.

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