Poor Little Poughkeepsie
The affection Joshua Harmon has for Poughkeepsie is the kind one might have for an alcoholic uncle or an abusive neighbor who occasionally tells good stories. The only love here…
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Leopardi, to the Moon
A concise and erudite presentation of and meditation on the complex and solitary figure of Leopardi, it is also an exploration of the major themes and forms of the poems…
And Then Lapsed Ordinary
I found myself intrigued by all of the energy surrounding what people seem to be calling a renewed energy in Heaney’s work.
You Know Butterflies’ Semaphore Graces It
Why We Make Gardens abounds with… lyricism and in doing so may serve as explanation. We make gardens and poems and art to achieve gentle charms of word and life.
You May Say Fist, You May Say Teeth
The unsentimental and honest display of Levin’s attitudes towards loss – her own losses as well the ways that others grieve their lost loved ones – is both moving and…
The Icy Hand of Love
In Double Shadow, suffering puts its hypothermic hand on the backs of all living creatures. In that sense, it might help to think of it as a spiritual book, a…
I Knocked On the Walls, In a Circle
The Chameleon Couch proves itself an expertly crafted book from a poet peaking in his awareness and execution of all the tangled dialectics that manifest in his art.
My Single Star Is Gone
Michael Klein reviews Invisible Strings by Jim Moore today in Rumpus Poetry.
Freak Flag Fly
[T]his is no Rand McNally; what makes the collection exciting is Iredell’s delicious sense of humor, his play with language and the dexterity with which he varies his voice.
Behold My Clearance Discounts
Nick Demske operates with a kind of magnetic-yet-repulsive force, powerfully driven by various tensions of opposites.
When Tar Roads Came In Barefoot Age
Les Murray seems to want to make his experiences into some kind of shared history. In fact, this blurred line between personal memory and shared history is the spine to…
The Air in the Cages is Dust
One of the great strengths of this book is Flynn’s refusal to luxuriate in self-importance. Instead, he displays a consistent awareness that the poetry of war is not war itself,…