Seasonal Works with Letters on Fire
Hillman has a penchant for including everything: she loves the sibilance and buzz of both creature and machine.
Backward-Spreading Brightness
Clear enough to see you christen or condemn another
on the side of a beige building, I take the boat out
of the body that returns itself to me
There
There are those for whom figures
on balconies exist, if only as possibilities.
Lichen Association
Something is speaking
in the language of
orange areoles
in the manner of
black plaques and
silvery-gritted miniature
British soldiers
Starlings
The most beautiful clothes: iridescent black over Snarl Call. I wore the soft Sparrow
to the store, I borrowed the Crow to bag food;
the Chickadee to the masquerade; the Vulture to the show,
Sign You Were Mistaken
This is a book of necessity. Not in terms of our reading it or his writing it (though I believe this necessary, too), but in terms of what is at stake in this unassumingly powerful collection.
Phosphorescence of Thought
The book’s form is fluid, a central current buoys its pauses; the book unfurls, as if transcribing the ongoing cosmic song, a poetic tap into universal energy, recording, chanting along—interjecting—repeating and varying, making new stories of origin, moving on.
The Poetics of Disenchantment: Buchanan and Meier
Poetry is always associated, to a certain extent, with enchantment—not necessarily magic, but a heightened state of being that moves above (or below) prosaic reality.
Armor, Amour
The poems of Armor, Amour reveal a serious mind wrestling with important subjects. The book is compulsively readable despite its gravity and occasional difficulty.
Grains of the Voice
This collection is, in essence, an act of singing. Each poem lilts, echoes, trills what has come before so that by the end one feels that the book has sung itself and that you, the reader, are part of its song.