In the new Denver Quarterly are two poems dear to my heart: a long beery floral summer adoration-note to baby Finn, Siobhan, and teacher Gabe, and a letter, parent to parent, to Andy Stallings. So grateful to have this work in the world. I even, what???, get to share journal space with Nathaniel Rosenthalis and Khadijah Queen.
Thanks to the editors.
I wanted to give some love to a five-year-old book of poetry that raised questions, and foresaw realities, that were way ahead of its time and against the grain of its artistic moment. Read the essay here.
First there was a god of night and tempest, a black idol without eyes, before whom they leaped, naked and smeared with blood. Later on, in the times of the republic, there were many gods with wives, children, creaking beds, and harmlessly exploding thunderbolts. At the end only superstitious neurotics carried in their pockets little statues of salt, representing the god of irony. There was no greater god at that time.
Then came the barbarians. They too valued highly the little god of irony. They would crush it under their heels and add it to their dishes.
Translated by Czeslaw Milosz. From Postwar Polish Poetry: New Edition, one of my very favorite poetry anthologies.
Hi friends, it was a pleasure to review of Valerie Mejer Caso’s rich and extraordinary This Blue Novel; my piece on it is up now at Poetry Northwest.
Hey folks, new review of Erica Mena’s Featherbone (Ricochet) and Robert Fernandez’s Pink Reef (Canarium) up this morning at Jacket2.
Hey folks— my review of Corina Copp’s The Green Ray and Ben Fama’s Fantasy is up now in the new Kenyon Review Online. Enjoy!
A batch of my poems are online now in the decentered and uncanny journal The Stockholm Review of Literature. Much gratitude to the editors. (While you’re there, please also discover and adore Andy Stallings’ excerpts from his book-length sequence Paradise.)