Editor, translator, and winner of the William Carlos Williams Award, Matthew Zapruder in his third book blends humor and invention with love and loss, as when the breath of a lover is compared to “a field of titanium gravestones / growing warmer in the sun.” The title poem is an elegy for heroes and mentors—from David Foster Wallace to Zapruder’s father—and demonstrates a new, expansive range for the poet, highlighting as well a larger body of poetry that is surprising and direct: writing that wrestles with the desires to live rightly, to make art, and to confront the vast events of the day.
ISBN: 9781556593222
Format: Paperback
Reviews
“Zapruder’s third collection of hip, quirkily haunting yet surprisingly earnest poems is his best and most beautiful… These poems are still full of quick jump-cuts, seeming tangents, and almost adorable imagery, but all more focused on subject matter.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Zapruder’s poems are ordered by dream logic that melds the familiar with the mysterious. Yet as brain-teasing as his wonderfully strange yet exactly right imagery is, the formal elements of his poems are so liquid and magnetizing as to be invisible… Zapruder writes with compassion and bafflement about loneliness and the broadcasting of war and other catastrophes, and he remembers his dead with candor and tenderness… these are deeply felt, exciting, and caring poems, droll and wistful, obliquely affirming, phosphorescently beautiful.” —Booklist, starred review
“Zapruder’s improvisations (or so they appear) enlist the reader as coexplorer, stumbling into candid self-revelations or surreal quips with wide-eyed grace.” —Library Journal
“Matthew Zapruder’s new book… does what many great collections of poems do: it expands a reader’s sense of what is possible, both for poetic form and for reality itself. With dynamic, logically complex sentences, Zapruder posits a world that is both extraordinary and refreshingly ordinary… To read this book is to suddenly see the fantastic elements that suffuse everyday existence.” —BOMBlog