Category Archives: poetry review

Sonnets “torqued high”


Check out this new and excellent review of Sonnets by Marianne Villanueva in Galatea Resurrects #16.

Villanueva’s take: Sonnets is “rigorous and uncompromising . . . intellectually fearsome . . . torqued high.”

Click here for links to distributors that carry Sonnets.

 


 

Camille Martin

Influency 10: A Toronto Poetry Salon (starts April 6!)

I’m excited that Margaret Christakos has invited me to participate in Influency 10: A Toronto Poetry Salon, a lecture-reading series at the University of Toronto School of Continuing Education.

It starts soon, so if you’re interested, click here to register through the University of Toronto School of Continuing Education.

Here’s the schedule:

April 6 opening evening (For MC and registrants)

April 13 rob mcclennan speaking on Camille Martin’s Sonnets

April 20 Daniel Scott Tysdal speaking on Larissa Lai’s Automaton Biographies

April 27 Larissa Lai speaking on Mark Truscott’s Nature

May 4 Mark Truscott on Daniel Scott Tysdal’s The Mourner’s Book of Albums

May 11 Camille Martin speaking on Kaie Kellough’s Maple Leaf Rag

May 18 Kaie Kellough speaking on rob mcclennan’s Wild Horses

May 25
A combined evening at a venue not on U of T campus, also open to public (for a door fee).
Rachel Zolf on Erin Moure’s Pillage Laud AND Erin Moure on Rachel Zolf’s Neighbour Procedure

No class June 1

June 8 Final potluck and Student Intertexts on Influency 9 authors and books (important! please attend!)

Classes are facilitated by Margaret Christakos.

Influency 10: A Toronto Poetry Salon
April 6- June 8 2011 (no class June 1)
Wednesday evenings, 7-9:30 pm (we begin promptly at 7:05 and make every effort to end by 9:30; some classes may extend to 10pm).

For readers and writers alike. A powerful way to reconnect with poetry, to build bridges into the contemporary poetry scene, and to deepen critical engagement with poetry. Many writers and literature buffs attend this course; the class is equally welcoming to people with a beginner’s level of experience with reading poetry. Adults from 18-1000 years welcome. Approximately half the registrants in any given session have taken previous sessions of the class; and each session we welcome newcomers. The course may count towards a certificate in creative writing, or be taken for pleasure. Registrants compose readerly critical responses to books weekly, and write a final “Intertext” reflecting on two or more of the books studied, for presentation. Registrants also take turns in small groups introducing guests and bringing along snacks and non-alcoholic beverages to produce a congenial social environment for each evening.

Influency: A Toronto Poetry Salon has run twice annually from Fall 2006. In each session, 8 accomplished poets working in distinctive styles will appear as both guest readers and peer critics in this unique lecture-reading series hosted by Margaret Christakos. Each poet’s critique of a colleague’s work will be followed with a reading by the poet under discussion. A group discussion led by Christakos will follow. Students will accumulate critical vocabulary to discuss more fluently the divergences of approach, motive, process and product typical of Toronto’s multitraditional literary culture. The 8-book package under discussion will be available in class for $130. Register a week prior to course beginning if possible to facilitate smooth running of a complex course! Note this spring’s session is 9 in-class meetings, with an extended evening on May 25 at an off-campus location.

The course has also spawned a fledgling online magazine called http://www.influencysalon.ca; please visit to see some of the essays and responses presented at some of our earlier classes.

* * *

For more info and registration, click here to visit the website of the University of Toronto School of Continuing Studies.

Location: Rm 108, St George Campus Health Sciences Building, University of Toronto (one block west of University, south side of College St. Queen’s Park subway station at College and University)

Course number 1777 – 010
Register at http://www.learn.utoronto.ca
University of Toronto School of Continuing Studies Creative Writing program. No prerequisite.

Course $249 plus $130 book fee (8 poetry books). Fee is paid at first class by personal cheque or cash.

 


 

Camille Martin

he-you-i: Who’s thinking, anyway?

Review of Every Day in the Morning (Slow) by Adam Seelig
Vancouver: New Star Books, 2010

          Adam Seelig’s Every Day in the Morning (Slow) is a savvy cross-genre poetic narrative that gets inside the head of Sam, a composer facing a crisis of creativity. Sam’s meandering morning thoughts reveal his frustration about his blocked creativity and his diminishing prospects for fame and money in an economy that he views as encouraging style, sentimentality, and the shallow repetition of the comfortable and familiar. These thoughts intertwine with Sam’s conflicted emotions about his mother, who died giving birth to him; his wealthy father, who has little understanding for Sam’s musical endeavours; and his wife, whose supportive words only send Sam into a spiral of guilt because of his lack of income.
          The book is a deceptively easy read: because of the liberal use of space on the page, it can be read in less than a couple of hours. But what makes it so extraordinary is Seelig’s seamless interweaving of the complex psychological, sexual, economic, and aesthetic themes within Sam’s reveries, the way that he guides the reader smoothly from one plane of thought to the next and demonstrates the interrelatedness of the themes flowing through Sam’s consciousness. For me the greatest pleasure is in re-reading the text, revisiting passages to experience at a slower pace the subtleties of their music. And there really is something musical—ironically enough, given Sam’s compositional block—in the thematic development and variations and in the rhythmic expressiveness aided by the use of space on the page, which reads something like a musical score: Sam’s elusive magnum opus, perhaps?
          Seelig’s striking use of space on the page places the text in a liminal genre between prose narrative and poem. The lineation and zigzagging left margin might seem daunting at first—quite a bit of eye hockey required—but an expressive rhythm emerges that, like a song by Janacek, aligns with speech patterns and with the emotional hesitations and associative streams of thought characteristic of the internal monologue. Here’s an excerpt from a page in which Sam contemplates the possible compromises a composer might make in an economy that rewards the commercialization of art:

The arrangement of the words emphasizes Sam’s bemoaning the correspondences between art, power, and money: like a capitalist bottom line, “sell” keeps hitting the left margin as a reminder of the hard economic realities of being an artist. Also, the repetition of words echoes the use of repetitive motifs and rhythms by composers of minimalist music, whom Sam views as a prime example of selling out in contemporary music. And the cheesy rhyming of “sham” and “ham” foreshadows his rant on the following page that “the cheesier the style the more it sells.”
          What might at first blush seem like an arbitrary scattering of words on the page is in reality a very smart use of space on the page—positions, margins, repetition—effectively scoring Sam’s thoughts. This use of space is a kind of stylistic signature of the book, but far from being what Sam sees as the vapid triumph of style, Seelig’s spacial manipulation meshes with and emphasizes the intricate interplay of ideas and emotions in Sam’s monologue. And the lineation produces a seamless quality, not only because of its cohesive effect on the whole, but also because the spatial patterns give the meandering thoughts the continuity that allows the reader to make connections among them, for example, between his troubled relationship with his wealthy father and his feelings of disgust toward the commercialization of art.
          But what is perhaps easier to take for granted in Every Day is the intricate and sophisticated shifting of perspective—thus the “he-you-i” in the title of this review. Although long passages of Sam’s internal monologue are written in the first person, the point of view shifts almost without the reader being aware of the change. The opening of the narrative shows just how Seelig glides from a third person narrator’s prologue:

*****
This is what happens in the morning of course many things happen to many people in the morning but this is what happens when Sam wakes up . . .
. . .
he puts on some shaving cream picks up his razor blade and starts shaving in the yellow light he’s flicked on a slightly yellow light that flickers at first above the mirror that reflects him
*****

to the second person:

*****
well what else can a mirror do but reflect and what else can you do in the mirror but face your face and reflect on how you used to believe you could write music to make a living simply make a living from writing your own God how naive you were to believe that back then . . .
. . .
while he does fine all the same because whatever Father wants Father gets with all the money he has for what for sitting for sitting on his rump all day as if his fat all shits bills all day long a trumpet call of bills from his ass as if from out of his fat ass pops one long trumpet that toots bills all day long just sitting since he sits on his ass all day
*****

and finally to the “i” of Sam’s internal monologue:

*****
like me i guess a little like me so what if i also sit when i work i really work i don’t just sit and get fat if anything i’m getting even thinner
*****

          The conversational “well” that opens the shift to the second person shows how subtly Seelig accomplishes the transition toward the internal monologue. Moreover, the “you,” which could be apprehended at first as an indefinite pronoun (a “you” out there, perhaps also the reader), presages Sam’s internal dialogue shaving before a mirror, addressing himself as “you” and responding as “i,” wondering whether he should latch onto a trademark, like the minimalists’ use of repetition, to become a famous composer. At the end of this passage, he agrees with his internal questioning voice, rejecting the prospect of becoming a “famous bore”:

*****
maybe one note is all it takes why not like Cage one note to be like John Cage or Riley repetitive like Terry Riley why is Terry Riley so repetitive a bore like Reich take a bore like Steve Reich is Philip Glass as repetitive you wonder as you shave in the mirror is one note all it takes for me to be the next Glass or Reich or Riley or Cage sure if what you want is to be a bore a famous bore mind you but a bore all the same why are they all the same and why is one more repetitive than the next is it to bore me to death
*****

          These subtle shifts in perspective enhance the seamless quality of the narrative, which is written so skilfully that a reader might marvel at the effect without at first being aware of how it was accomplished.
          Seelig’s shifting points of view remind me of Apollinaire’s “Zone,” a poem whose alternations among first, second, and third points of view have been associated with cubism. Some have interpreted these shifts as symptomatic of the modernist rupture of the self into expressions of self-alienation brought about by cultural forces of urbanization and technology. I’ve always felt that this argument is insufficient to explain the fracturing of the traditionally consistent point of view into modernist literature’s prismatic investigation of subjective experience. Call me an optimist, but I’m drawn more to Mary Ann Caws’ interpretation of the shifting points of view in “Zone”: “the pronominal zig-zags vibrate within the text, creating a warmth of contact between narrator and reader, drawn into the poem” (52).
          And to me, this is the effect of Seelig’s shifting points of view in Every Day, as the “he-you-i” flow at the opening demonstrates, for the reader is implicated in Sam’s dialogic “you.” Thus the boundaries between points of view are permeable, as are the resulting boundaries between narrator, character, and reader.
          In Every Day Seelig takes seamlessness, a quality associated with stream of consciousness writing, to another level through the musicality of the writing. And like hearing the music that Sam would probably like to compose, reading his thoughts is a hypnotic experience.

Work Cited
Caws, Mary Ann. “Strong-Line Poetry: Ashbery’s Dark Edging an the Lines of Self.” The Line in Postmodern Poetry. Eds. Robert Frank and Henry Sayre. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1988.



Camille Martin

Recipes from the Red Planet: Meredith Quartermain’s Martian Feast

Recipes from the Red Planet by Meredith Quartermain
Susan Bee, illustrator
(Toronto: Book Thug, 2010)
order from Small Press Distribution
order from Book Thug

cover collage: Susan Bee


            Meredith Quartermain’s Recipes from the Red Planet pays homage in its title and inspiration to Jack Spicer’s notion of the poet as a conduit of language that seems to come from a source other than a consciously creating self, Martian signals being his memorable metaphor for this otherness of the poetic voice. But voice it is nonetheless, and whatever metaphor serves to describe the source of the poetic energy (Martians, radio signals, parasites, or invaders), the voices in Quartermain’s prose poems take center stage as they rant, apostrophize, soliloquize, surreal-ize, tell tall tales. Her stage is populated by a host of selves and others engaged in playful—often seriously playful—dialogue, and fittingly illustrated by six wonderfully quirky and surreal collages by Susan Bee.
            Book Thug appropriately placed this collection in its Department of Narrative Studies series: even when the speaking voices and time dimension of the stories seem most fractured, thing happen and voices talk about them. The narratives’ layered effect gives the illusion of alien languages and customs from different planets colliding to form new alien cultures that come into being in the act of reading. And the overlapping narratives create meaning that is in its own mysterious way decipherable yet also porous to allow variations of understanding and delight.
            Perhaps it’s apropos that poetry claiming, tongue in cheek, alien provenance doesn’t come across as traditional lyrical, meditative poetry. In Recipes from the Red Planet, there’s a wildness, often breathlessness, to the voices that broadcast dramatic and narrative speech celebrating the free, unfettered riffing of imagination.
            Unfettered isn’t synonymous, however, with disengaged. Although some poems in the collection revel in linguistic play for its own sake (not to say that such play isn’t politically engaged, at least not overtly), the playful stream of words more often than not swarms around and explores something of concern to her—a memory, a place, or social injustice, for example. Such concerns are what Spicer called the poet’s personal “furniture,” which the “Martians” work with, arrange, and invest with clues. For Spicer, the furniture—the poet’s language, memory, knowledge, idiosyncrasies as a human being—are not as relevant as his or her ability to clear the room of personal desire (“this is what I want the poem to say”) and allow the Martians to inhabit the furnished space and their voices to stream, as if through a neutral conduit, into the typing fingers.
            But the furniture is there nonetheless—Spicer never claimed that poetic dictation involved becoming a tabula rasa and letting go of one’s beliefs, but that in allowing an otherness to flow through, those beliefs might not come across the way one expected. If a poet wants to write about Vietnam, Spicer says, the Martians might end up talking about about ice-skating in Vermont (as Norman Mailer did when he exposed the horrors of the Vietnam War by telling the tale of an unsportsman-like bear hunt in Alaska).
            Quartermain’s perspectives on feminism, corporate misconduct, and the rescue of voices lost to the shadows of history come through clearly, and true to Spicer’s ideas about poetic dictation, these ideas are voiced by her “Martians” in wild tangents, unexpected flights, and strange juxtapositions. Personal opinion has not left the room, but a chorus of voices (and here the invasion metaphor seems apt) swarm into the room, rearranging the furniture as they please, creating surreal parables and buildings haunted with swirling voices. Agenda may seem secondary to the thrill of linguistic play, yet that ludic impulse is also intimately intertwined with the political. In the tradition of dystopian science fiction’s tactic of cognitive estrangement1, Quartermain’s Martians defamiliarize the inhumanity that is too often taken for granted, providing fresh perspectives on the troubled history of Earthlings.
            One poem that exemplifies such defamiliarization while also invoking Spicer’s Martian metaphor is the delightfully comical “A Disagreement over Lunch.” A woman asserts to a man over lunch that architecture is not only a human activity but a phenomenon of living beings—ants, for instance—that manipulate their environment under biological pressure: a decidedly anti-heroic point of view. But the man, firmly in the Ayn Rand camp, prefers to see the architecture of humans as heroically creative and uniquely above animal constructions.
            As they debate, however, a surreal drama unfolds: an eggplant-cum-football enters the room, hovers over a fruit bowl, lays eggs, and releases tiny creatures that roll their caravans and wagons over the peaches. The voice that narrates the surreal vision of the eggplant-blimp is ambiguous about the creatures and seems to debate itself: did the eggplant release ants or tiny humans? Thus the poem moves from the debate between the diners to a debate of the narrating voice at odds with itself, or at least unable to decide.
            This refusal of the narrating voice to take a position, to reason politically, and side with one or the other, is part of the subtle brilliance of Quartermain’s approach. The trope of the Martian’s bird’s-eye view allows the consideration of human behaviour from an alien perspective: a Martian anthropologist, presumably unfamiliar with the imposed hierarchy of life that humans often assume in their anthropocentric hubris, would likely have a broader perspective on the commonalities of living creatures. But the narrating voice, instead of simply siding with the woman (which is apparent, in any case), embraces the rhetoric of debate (ants? humans?) and ends on a note of undecidability, thus bringing ants and humans into the same realm, parading in lines and shaping their world.
            Like Spicer, Quartermain (or should I say, her Martians?) uses and rearranges the “furniture” of mythology, in her case to offer a feminist spin on patriarchal Greek myths. In “Sewing,” the aptly-named Mrs. Shears of Home-Ec is an unlikely but nonetheless quietly heroic feminist as she teaches her students to sew, all the while spinning yarns (so to speak) and debunking the partriarchal assumptions of ancient myths: it’s the women who kept home safe for the men, not the other way around; Andromeda was saved by a Minoan queen, not her future husband, Perseus. Thus Mrs. Shears teaches her students to stitch together their own stories without relying on prejudicial myths, and plants the idea that it is they who “piece reality together.”
            Quartermain’s collection revels in imaginative wordplay, and some poems, such as “Snow” just seem linguistically to shimmer for the pure joy of it:

“down steady down fall flake down by flake down round cloud-whirl tree by roof by frolicsome milk-wing flight-of-steps runaway runway quick lattice icicle faceted minikin clusters wittily mimical silica ventriloquy down by down by down doors porches by churches banks frosty postage to rustle and bluster downtown towers flour the tree-bark fringe the stones the hedges the wires the trellises tickle crystal thickety particle curriculum [. . .]”

I can add nothing that wouldn’t spoil the fun of the poem.
            And I could wax on about some of my favourites in Quartermain’s collection, such as “My City,” “Future Past,” “Fabulous Moderne,” “She would,” “The Plackener,” “Hotel Narrative.” But before I outstay the Martians’ welcome, I’ll end by briefly alluding to “The Sonic Boom” and returning to the idea, so important to Spicer’s poetics: sidestepping one’s own desires about the poem being written and allowing something else much stranger to speak through the poem and perhaps “say just exactly the opposite of what he wants himself, per se poet, to say” (Spicer 6). Quartermain’s “The Sonic Boom Catcher” hits the bull’s eye of the poet’s dilemma in implementing Spicer’s idea of writing as dictation. The paradox of the title beautifully sums up Spicer’s advice, quoted by Quartermain in her index: “You have to not really want not what you don’t want to say.” The trickiness of untangling that triple negative is like the trickiness of writing—you can’t fool the “Martians”; all you can do, says Spicer, is prepare the room and get rid of the personal.
            “The Sonic Boom Catcher” could also be read as a parable of the slipperiness of desire: once you have what you want, it ceases to be the object of desire, because the object of desire is desire itself. Readiness, patience, and a quieting of desire lure the Martians to the poet’s antennae.
            Recipes from the Red Planet is a paean to the imagination, sometimes madcap, sometimes pensive, but always generously liberating. Her description of the tree the speaker has given birth to in “Dear Mom,” is an apt mantra for the spirit of the book: “Merrythought. Willy nilly bodacious. Willy nilly lexiludic.” And imagination is just as often a celebration of its own play as an exploration of social and political engagement.
            It’s impossible to summarize the wealth of themes and the explosion of wordplay in this collection, and my review cannot do it justice. How to describe being a guest at Quartermain’s Martian banquet? You just have to be there.

collage: Susan Bee



1 See Darko Suvin’s work on science fiction.

Work Cited
Spicer, Jack. The House That Jack Built: The Collected Lectures of Jack Spicer. Ed. Peter Gizzi. Hanover, New Hampshire: University of New England, 1998.



Camille Martin

Saline: Kimberly Lyons’ Fleeting Continuum


(Click here to order from SPD.)

Please check out my review of Kimberly Lyons’ Saline in the new issue of Galatea Resurrects:

Kimberly Lyons’ Fleeting Continuum

The problem (and pleasure) of reviewing a book of poetry by Kimberly Lyons is that a review needs to generalize to an extent, yet my temptation is to pause at the details in the language, to become wrapped up in close readings of the images that flow in a continually morphing reverie . . . [click here to read the review]

Camille Martin

A smorgasbord of new reviews at Galatea Resurrects

Many thanks to Eileen Tabios for her publication of Galatea Resurrects, a fantastic resource for poetry book reviews!

GALATEA RESURRECTS ANNOUNCEMENT

We are pleased to announce the release of Galatea Resurrects’ 15th Issue which presents 72 New Poetry Reviews as well as other feature presentations. The issue can be accessed directly at http://galatearesurrection15.blogspot.com. For convenience, the Table of Contents is cutnpasted below.

Enjoy!

Eileen Tabios
Editor, Galatea Resurrects (A Poetry Engagement)

++++

Issue No. 15 TABLE OF CONTENTS
Dec. 7, 2010

EDITOR’S INTRODUCTION
By Eileen Tabios

NEW REVIEWS
Camille Martin reviews SALINE by Kimberly Lyons

Patrick James Dunagan reviews DEAR SANDY, HELLO: LETTERS FROM TED TO SANDY BERRIGAN, Edited by Sandy Berrigan and Ron Padgett

Jon Curley reviews AUTOPSY TURVY by Thomas Fink and Maya Diablo Mason

Eileen Tabios engages HAD SLAVES by Catherine Sasanov

John Herbert Cunningham reviews SELECTED POEMS OF GARCILASO DE LA VEGA, Edited and translated by John Dent-Young

Kathryn Stevenson reviews MONEY FOR SUNSETS by Elizabeth J. Colen

T.C. Marshall reviews VANCOUVER: A POEM by George Stanley and IN THE MILLENIUM by Barry McKinnon

Eric Dickey reviews AS IT TURNED OUT by Dmitry Golynko, Edited by Eugene Ostashevsky. Translated by Eugene Ostashevsky and Rebecca Bella with Simona Schneider

Peg Duthie engages THE AMAZING ADVENTURES OF GRAVITY AND GRACE by Ernesto Priego

Patrick James Dunagan reviews UNTAM’D WING: RIFFS ON ROMANTIC POETRY by Jeffrey C. Robinson

Harry Thorne reviews NEIGHBOR by Rachel Levitsky

Michael Pollock engages “El Dorado” by Edgar Allan Poe, Spanish translation by Mario Murgia in EL CURVO Y OTROS POEMAS by Edgar Allan Poe, Edicion bilingue with Traduccion del proyecto Helbardot and Ilustraciones de Gustavo Abascal

Barbara Roether reviews FIRE EXIT by Robert Kelly

Allen Bramhall reviews SITUATIONS by Laura Carter

Eileen Tabios engages 1000 SONNETS by Tim Atkins

Eric Hoffman reviews ESCHATON by Michael Heller

Jon Curley reviews 100 NOTES ON VIOLENCE by Julie Carr

Genevieve Kaplan reviews NETS by Jen Bervin and THE MS OF M Y KIN by Janet Holmes

Aileen Ibardaloza reviews THE CHAINED HAY(NA)KU PROJECT, Curated by Ivy Alvarez, John Bloomberg-Rissman, Ernesto Priego & Eileen Tabios and THE HAY(NA)KU ANTHOLOGY, VOL. II, Edited by Jean Vengua and Mark Young

John Herbert Cunningham reviews COLLECTED POEMS by Dylan Thomas

Eileen Tabios engages 2ND NOTICE OF MODIFICATIONS TO TEXT OF PROPOSED REGULATIONS by John Bloomberg-Rissman

Allen Bramhall reviews NOT BLESSED by Harold Abramowitz

Moira Richards reviews A IS FOR ANNE by Penelope Scambly Schott

Peg Duthie engages “GOTHENBURG” FROM THREE GEOGAOPHIES: A MILKMAID’S GRIMOIRE by Arielle Guy

John Herbert Cunningham reviews DISJUNCTIVE POETICS: FROM GETRUDE STEIN AND LOUIS ZUKOFSKY TO SUSAN HOWE by Peter Quartermain

Rebecca Loudon reviews GOD DAMSEL by Reb Livingston

Eileen Tabios engages REQUIEM FOR THE ORCHARD by Oliver de la Paz

Kristi Castro reviews EDGE BY EDGE, collection of poetry chaps by Gladys Justin Carr, Heidi Hart, Emma Bolden, and Vivian Teter

Allen Bramhall reviews I-FORMATION BOOK 1 by Anne Gorrick

Lynn Behrendt reviews I-FORMATION BOOK 1 by Anne Gorrick

Eileen Tabios engages Lynn Behrendt’s review of Anne Gorrick’s I-FORMATION BOOK 1

Michael Caylo-Baradi reviews MISSPELL by Lars Palm

John Herbert Cunningham reviews PENURY by Myung Mi Kim

Albert B. Casuga reviews TRAJE DE BODA: POEMS by Aileen Ibardaloza

Richard Lopez reviews SOME SONNETS, Edited by Tim Wright

Eileen Tabios engages APPARITION POEMS by Adam Fieled

L.M. Freer reviews BEATS AT NAROPA: AN ANTHOLOGY, Edited by Anne Waldman and Laura Wright

Moira Richards reviews (MADE) by Cara Benson

Thomas Fink reviews DRUNKER/HOLDING EMBER by Raymond Farr

Edric Mesmer reviews ON SECRETS OF MY PRISON HOUSE by Geoffrey Gatza

Peg Duthie engages EATING HER WEDDING DRESS: A COLLECTION OF CLOTHING POEMS, Edited by Vasiliki Katsarou, Ruth O’Toole, and Ellen Foos

Eileen Tabios engages BEHAVE: CALIFORNIA RANT 66 by Steve Tills

Jim McCrary reviews MR. MAGOO by Steve Tills

Nicholas T. Spatafora reviews AUTOPSY TURVY by Thomas Fink and Maya Diablo Mason

Margaret H. Johnson reviews MANHATTAN MAN (AND OTHER POEMS) by Jack Lynch

Eileen Tabios engages AT TROTSKY’S FUNERAL by Mark Young

Marianne Villanueva reviews ERNESTA, IN THE STYLE OF FLAMENCO by Sandy McIntosh

Hadas Yatom-Schwartz engages “Nathan, in the Ancient Language”, a poem in ERNESTA, IN THE STYLE OF THE FLAMENCO by Sandy McIntosh

Patrick James Dunagan reviews COLLECTED POEMS / GUSTAF SOBIN, Edited by Esther Sobin, Andrew Joron, Andrew Zawacki, and Ed Foster

Jon Curley reviews CLEANING THE MIRROR: SELECTED AND NEW POEMS by Joel Chace

Tom Beckett reviews CLEANING THE MIRROR: SELECTED AND NEW POEMS by Joel Chace

John Bloomberg-Rissman reviews AT THE FAIR by Tom Clark

Peg Duthie engages 32 SNAPSHOTS OF MARSEILLES by Guy Bennett

Jim McCrary reviews THE HAY(NA)KU FOR HAITI SERIES, Edited by Eileen Tabios

Kristina Marie Darling reviews THE FRENCH EXIT by Elisa Gabbert

Anny Ballardini reviews BRAINOGRAPHY by Evelyn Posamentier

Richard Lopez reviews 2ND NOTICE OF MODIFICATIONS TO TEXT OF PROPOSED REGULATIONS by John Bloomberg-Rissman

G.E. Schwartz reviews THE FUTURE IS HAPPY by Sarah Sarai

Kristina Marie Darling reviews TINDERBOX LAWN by Carol Guess

Eileen Tabios engages DIWATA by Barbara Jane Reyes

Peg Duthie engages DUTIES OF AN ENGLISH FOREIGN SECRETARY by Macgregor Card

John Bloomberg-Rissman reviews ADAMANTINE by Shin Yu Pai

Jeff Harrison reviews GRIEF SUITE by Bobbi Lurie

Allen Bramhall reviews OPULENCE by Stephen Ellis

Peg Duthie engages SPRING HAS COME: SPANISH LYRICAL POETRY FROM THE SONGBOOKS OF THE RENAISSANCE by Alvaro Cardona-Hine

Jim McCrary reviews CARRY CATASTROPHE by Megan Kaminski

Moira Richards reviews THEN, SOMETHING by Patricia Fargnoli

Eileen Tabios engages KING OF THE JUNGLE by Zvi A. Sesling

Genevieve Kaplan reviews POETS ON TEACHING: A SOURCEBOOK, Edited by Joshua Marie Wilkinson

THE CRITIC WRITES POEMS
Kristina Marie Darling

FOCUS ON POETS
Tom Beckett interviews ANNE GORRICK

Thomas Fink interviews JOANNA FUHRMAN

FROM OFFLINE TO ONLINE: REPRINTED REVIEW
Lisa Bower reviews SKIRT FULL OF BLACK by Sun Yung Shin

Eric Dickey reviews LIGHT FROM A BULLET HOLE: POEMS NEW AND SELECTED, 1950–2008 by Ralph Salisbury

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Carol Dorf reviews Camille Martin’s Sonnets

I just came across Carol Dorf’s terrific review of my recent poetry collection, Sonnets, at New Pages Book Reviews:

“Can you pour new wine into old bottles? Well, if you are Camille Martin and the bottles are sonnets, the answer is an emphatic, “Yes.” [click here to read the full review]

 


 

Camille Martin