This is the ideal manner in which to dine on the exquisite: a taste here, a nibble there, until desire is sated. This is how I savored the newly released poetry anthology, Poets Gone Wild, edited by Jim Doss, Lisa Janice Cohen, Carole Barley & Lisa Megraw. Each poem deserves the reader's undivided attention, and this takes time. To continue with the dining analogy - as with all delicious meals, each individual has different tastes or preferences. However, one must come to the table hungry and willing to sample each offering before going on to the next. With this in mind, I happily devoured the entire book of poems, morsel by morsel; a delightful feast! Prior to reading the poetry, the reader is able to "meet" most of the authors via the black and white photos that accompany their biographies. This is a very nice touch and added great appeal to the experience. To begin at the beginning, there is the heartfelt introduction of talented Poet "M," who sets the table by introducing the reader to the establishment of the "Wild Poetry Forum." This is the internet meeting place of the authors whose work comprises the Poets Gone Wild anthology. This is the haven where they workshop and enjoy each other's poetry and publishing accomplishments. The volume includes 33 authors, each of whom contributed 3-5 pieces of work. As an occasional poetry editor and competition judge, it's been my experience that the first and last lines of a poem are of ultimate importance. Yes, there is the title, which is what draws the reader's first glance, but the first couple of lines are what determine if the reader will actually read the poem. The last line or two (what I think of as the "Ah-hah!" moment) should create an experience for the reader. Without fulfilling these two requirements, a poem is just another group of words with odd spacing. As an occasional poetry editor and competition judge, it's been my experience that the first and last lines of a poem are of ultimate importance. Yes, there is the title, which is what draws the reader's first glance, but the first couple of lines are what determine if the reader will actually read the poem. The last line or two, (what I think of as the "Ah-hah!" moment), should create an experience for the reader. Without fulfilling these two requirements, a poem is just another group of words with odd spacing. With the above in mind, the problem of how to present what a marvelous collection this is had been solved! The following is a small sampling of the most incredibly enticing poetic opening lines you'll ever encounter: Her breath failed as you were finding yours. ("Breath" - Christopher T. George)
I wish to be cremated, / and when I have cooled enough / for sieving, / be divided. ("Last Rites" - Carole Barley (Vienna))
Winter comes apart / on your lips… ("Sun" - Lois P. Jones)
The small seed had shown itself in the shape / of a wishbone…. ("Flower" - Lois P. Jones)
I am writing to tell you / of something miraculous, ("Burned" - Dale McLain)
They will find you. ("The Messengers" - Jim Doss)
I used to pray they'd be merciful ("The Gods of Poetry" - Jim Doss)
Last night with Andre I rode / the arch of his eyebrow like a dove. ("Last Night with Andre" - Laurie Byro)
The barrio lamps glimmer in tremulous fragility, ("By a January Lamplight" - Marty Abuloc)
I sleep like this. ("Sleeping With Planets" - E.V. Brooks)
Then the fish were thrown. ("The Fish" - M. Kathryn Black)
My girl dances with one red sock ("Girl with a Red Sock" - Bernard Henrie)
Someday you'll offer rocks ("Spit Shine" - Bren Gentry)
Yes, I remember you from Togo, ("Vodun" - Michael Julius Sottak)
Soft, soft now--but listen, she comes during the dusking into night. ("Sarasvati's hymn (pilgrims' payment)" - Alan Addotto)
With stone-filled pickets / Virginia drowned her demons. ("The Weight of Silk" - Carole MacRury)
You must admit, after reading those beginning lines, you're intrigued enough to want to read the entire poem. I know, I was. But then, there are poems whose closing lines are just as marvelous: …how she opens / herself to the blood / of a weed. ("Milkweed" - T.E. Ballard)
…this fragment that I hold / will gather flesh, take in air / and you will stand before me. ("Burned" - Dale McLain)
…Only the tender / green keeps you from drifting away. ("Lilacs for One Hundred Springs" - Lisa Janice Cohen)
They worship and guard you like gold. ("Living Muse" - Lorin Ford)
…I have cut with so much passion the pruning shears are split in two, yet I find myself no nearer to the sun. ("Two Women in the Garden of the Ward" - M)
…twisting green fingers through the darkness / to smother him while he's asleep. ("Rebecca's Garden" - E.V. Brooks)
…you float like / reed boats on fire. ("Girl with a Red Sock" - Bernie Henrie)
I have to close my eyes / to be with you. ("Sawdust Ghosts" - Michael Julius Sottak)
I do not recall any room without her. ("Resurrections" - Steve Williams)
…my footsteps will leave powder / sparkling like butterfly scales. ("Aging" - M. Kathryn Black)
Now he visits in my aloneness. ("The Telling" - Nochipa D. Campbell)
Beyond the secret way to Shang Hill, / not even a wood-cutter knows. ("A River Transformed VI: after Wang Wei's Jinzhu Ridge (4)" - Gary Blankenship)
Is there an intimacy greater / than creator and created… ("Sortilegio" - Silvia A. Brandon Perez)
…you wear the shape of my lips, / carry a trace of my seed. ("The Light in Blue-Black" - Carole MacRury)
and my personal favorite line, in the entire book:
…show me the hole / where his brain escaped ("Titusville" - Michael Julius Sottak)
There are also those poems which have both an intriguing opening, AND show-stopping closing lines, in which case the poet has managed to accomplish something rare: a poem that is truly memorable. ("Burned" and "Girl with a Red Sock" are listed for both the above.) Many are found in this book. You'll have to decide for yourself. Once found, the reader may be certain that the poem, as a whole, will be completely satisfying, and there are many to choose from in this anthology. I know you'll enjoy it as much as I have. 
