John Lundberg reviews celebrity poetry for the Huffington Post today, covering the oeuvres of such notables as Suzanne Somers, Leonard Nimoy, and Charlie Sheen. He makes the "well, duh" assessment that songwriters often fare the best, citing Wilco's Jeff Tweedy as an example. In doing so he manages to forget the estimable Jewel, whose poems are described, on the back of her 1998 book A Night Without Armor (get it??), as "A talented artist's intimate portrait of what makes us uniquely human." Right. The bulk of her work consists of a few hackneyed sentences which she chopped up by hitting the "return" button at random, turning them into twee bits of verse. The singer, who hilariously got served by MTV's Kurt Loder over a malapropism while promoting the book, shares some deep thoughts with us after the jump.

"Saved From Myself"

How often I've cried out
in silent tongue
to be saved
from myself

in the middle of the night
too afraid
to move

horrified the answer
may be beyond the
capability of my
own two hands

so small

I read a book
and the man thinks
I can not see
the wrikled posture
of his son
as he is nudged.

He thinks
I can not sense
four eyes
upon my flesh
as the father tries
to bond with
his teenage boy
by ogling my breasts.

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