It should be illegal for Evans and Kopaska-Merkel to be in the same room together . . . in the same city, hell, even on the same continent. They feed off one another. Each word by one leads to an inspired thought by the other, and so the process continues until a statement is born–in this case and in this volume, a poem. Or worse.
Call them absurdist? Okay. Call them out of their cotton-pickin’ minds? Could be. How about “a sharp stick in the eye of convention”? A-yep!
Let’s put it this way: the hamburger you see sizzling on their back-yard barbecues comes from your sacred cows. You might as well bring along the buns and the condiments, and enjoy it . . .