
Many people do not become artists not because they are stupid, but because they are incapable of suspending the thinking/feeling functions. They fail to become writers and musicians and painters because they cannot enter their highest stupidity.
Michael Montlack’s new poem collection Cool Limbo, for starters, looks really cool before it’s even opened.
Being “timeless” isn’t about removing the contemporary but about writing a good poem.
Okay! Fine. Tea Obreht is a veritable prodigy, and The Tiger’s Wife is uncannily good. Most (no, all) reviewers, as well as the likes of Colum McCann, TC Boyle, and Ann Patchett, say no less. But this novel is not just good for a twenty-five year old. Most of us would kill to kill it like she does.
Cursivism, Will Hubbard’s slim, debut volume of prose poems published by Ugly Duckling Presse, begins with a simple piece of advice that may be one of the most challenging charges facing anyone who is trying to figure out how to live, “just let it happen.”
[Candor Here, Lustre There]
[After Catullus and Horace]
[Selections from "Under Ben Bulben"]
[Canoe]
[Extract from My Ragged Company, #19]
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