Deeply suspicious of anything that smacks of self-importance, of making a blanket statement or pronouncement, Clark Coolidge resists nailing down what the poet and poem are.
The entire body of Crase’s writing invites the kind of close attention that is usually reserved for poetry.
North pays close attention to what is in front of him, never resorting to what he calls, in another context, a “theoretical program.”
The Astropastorals, a new collection of poetry by Douglas Crase, brings together two decades of material in 18 pages.
While visiting Philadelphia a number of years ago, the poet and critic Wayne Koestenbaum asked me “Is Trevor Winkfield a real person?”