George Green is a pop-culture Juvenal, whose satiric strain is both trenchant and elegiac. The poems in
Lord Byron’s Foot
move deftly between the back alleys of Trieste and the parking lots of his hometown in Pennsylvania, between Chichester Cathedral and the downtown streets and parks of Manhattan where he has lived for three decades. Green’s range and depth of knowledge in these technically accomplished poems might be intimidating if not for the disarming delight and passion with which he engages his material and the bizarrely raucous humor in which the poetry often revels.