“In Mittenthal’s work, it’s the idea of comedy in an explosion of craft that catches you. He’s quiet about it. He understands it will adhere—and it’s designed to—to linger. There’s almost a battle going on—an intellect that exists only to be destroyed by itself so that all that was is as it was—only clearer. And his sound sounds the most sounded out a boxer squaring off to take on the psychology of currency and its effects on labor. Not political OR only political. A clarity and honest posture mixed with poignant sarcasm about how the world sees itself. It’s about seeing inequality. ‘Paid to forget, I recall more.'”—Nico Vassilakis
“In The Voice of the Borderlands, we have stories remembered as poems, picaresque vignettes and campfire tales rendered in the original voices—as faithfully and fully as by fellow cowman Will James. In LIGHT BEFORE DAWN, we have the koans of mortality faced as quietly and introspectively as Emily Dickinson. Hers: ‘I heard a fly buzz when I died.’ The fly outlived the protagonist. But the poem, as information, is forever: Drum’s—’He knew who he was, And then he was gone.’ The poem is a declaration that he knew who he was—which is a rare feat for any sentient being—and the poem—as information, is at the deepest level, immortal. Nice trick for an old cowman, Drum.”—James Northrup
“STEALTH, this reeling motet, feels like a Tarkovsky film, all of them strung together, about the end of the world, these poems continuously spilling themselves into other spaces ad infinitum. And giving us a tiny window on that. It feels like a shell-game. Friendship and language. STEALTH is excited and joyous, while dying, dragging one’s tired ass through a desert, hallucinating. It feels like The Waste Land but the footnotes are fun. STEALTH is more boy than girl. I don’t think Philip Marlowe, I think of Philip Whalen with a pilot’s silk scarf tied around his neck. Man or a girl’s doll. These multiples never get solved, only raised here. I think I mean that stealth is simply the past tense of steal or living finally with everything you stole—living well in a paradise of your own.”—Eileen Myles
Samuel Ace has published widely in periodicals and journals, including Ploughshares, Eoagh, Nimrod, The Prose Poem, an International Journal, and the Kenyon Review. He is the author of two collections of poetry: Normal Sex (Firebrand Books) and Home in three days. Don’t wash. (Hard Press). He is a two-time finalist for a Lambda Literary Award in Poetry, a recipient of a New York Foundation for the Arts grant, winner of the Astraea Lesbian Writer’s Fund Prize in Poetry, The Katherine Anne Porter Prize for Fiction and the Firecracker Alternative Book Award in poetry. He lives in Tucson, AZ, and Truth or Consequences, NM. Maureen Seaton‘s recent publications include a collaboration with Neil de la Lor, SINÉAD O’CONNOR AND HER COAT OF A THOUSAND BLUEBIRDS (Firewheel Editions, 2011), her sixth solo poetry collection, Cave of the Yellow Volkswagen (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2009) and a memoir, Sex Talks to Girls (University of Wisconsin Press Living Out Series, 2008), winner of the Lambda Literary Award. Her previous collections include Venus Examines Her Breast (Carnegie Mellon University Press, 2004), winner of the Publishing Triangle’s Audre Lorde Award; and Furious Cooking (University of Iowa Press, 1996), winner of the Iowa Poetry Prize and the Lambda Literary Award. She is co-editor, with Denise Duhamel and David Trinidad, of Saints of Hysteria: A Half-Century of Collaborative American Poetry (Soft Skull Press, 2006). Her solo and collaborative work has appeared in The Atlantic, The New Republic, The Paris Review, Prairie Schooner, Bloom, and elsewhere. The recipient of an NEA fellowship in poetry and two Pushcart Prizes for individual poems, Seaton teaches poetry at the University of Miami, Florida.
“The word ‘spiritual’ is, in this volume, ripped away from the New Age and returned to its sources in Kabbalah and early Christian (gnostic) writings. But it carries with it the world as we have it now. A heap of horrors, remnants, a sense of the feminine under assault, and the drive to love. Therefore the dimensions are multiple and unstable. To be human is to be a spiritual entity more aligned with nature than with culture, and therefore to rebel. I am happy to have and to hold this book.”—Fanny Howe
David Miller was born in Melbourne, Australia, in 1950, and has lived in London, England, since 1972. His recent publications include THE WATERS OF MARAH (Singing Horse Press, 2003 / Shearsman Books, 2005), The Dorothy and Benno Stories (Reality Street Editions, 2005), and IN THE SHOP OF NOTHING: NEW AND SELECTED POEMS (Harbor Mountain Press, 2007). He has compiled British Poetry Magazines 1914-2000: A History and Bibliography of “Little Magazines” (with Richard Price, The British Library, 2006) and edited The Lariat and Other Writings by Jaime de Angulo (Counterpoint, 2009). He has been working on the Spiritual Letters project since 1995. A double CD recording of David Miller reading Spiritual Letters (Series 1-5) is available from LARYNX (London).