Language caresses the tongue.
Through his father, Wallace, Tosh Berman was in the middle of a vivid circle of artists, writers, and musicians who regarded art as the opposite of cultural business.
Reading these and the other poems that make up Out of Print what struck me was less the ostensive morbidity of Poirier’s images than the searing honesty underlying them.
The poems in Elaine Kahn’s Women in Public are highly self-aware. They’re porous, riven with gaps and fragmentation; at the same time, they’re unquestionably “lyrical” in their concision and fluidity
I never set out to be a critic of poetry, and still refuse the label. Actually writing poems is already thankless enough.