Failing any opportunities for Kout-drinking in the UK, let me paraphrase the advertising slogan for a beer Evan Rail would never drink: with its intoxicating slow ferment of beer and history, The Brewery in the Bohemian Forest refreshes parts of the imagination that other writing just can’t reach.
A meta review of Joe Wenderoth's latest collection, in which the reviewer, Keith Driver, ends up reviewing his own annotation of Wenderoth's book.
"There’s an urgent need in these poems to keep moving forward, to not get bogged down in the past. And breaking from the past is part of what Skoog is after in form as well." - Katie Herman reviews Ed Skoog's second collection, Rough Day
At first glance, Orphan is made up wildly disparate parts—part personal narrative, part allegory, part song — but together they describe a journey.
What makes Sarah Lang's book-length poem, For Tamara, especially compelling isn’t the conceit of its apocalyptic vision, but its implications. Lang asks the question most of us fail to ask when we imagine survival in a post-apocalyptic word: How much do we really know?
Sara Peters’ "1996" (House of Anansi) is a debut so fully realized it is hard to believe that it is the poet’s first. Peters, a rising star in Canadian poetry, establishes a voice that is distinctly her own. With freshness and maturity, 1996 carries the reader through subjects that are, in Robert Pinsky’s words, “deeper than mere darkness.”
It is refreshing to read poetry that doesn't have to bullshit about what it is. Hilbert can write a sonnet that sounds so natural - and so casually American - that heard aloud, one might not even recognize it for what it is. Or rather, one would recognize it for exactly what it is: great poetry.