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More copies of this ISBNOther titles in the Lannan Literary Selections series:
The End of the Westby Michael Dickman
Synopses & ReviewsPublisher Comments:"Dickman's book moves with careful intensity as it confidently illuminates buried, contemporary suffering."—Publishers Weekly "Elizabeth Bishop said that the three qualities she admired most in poetry were accuracy, spontaneity, and mystery. Michael Dickman's first full-length collection of poems demonstrates each brilliantly....These are lithe, seemingly effortless poems, poems whose strange affective power remains even after several readings. Again and again the language seems to disappear, leaving the reader with woven flashes of image, situation, emotion....These are durable poems from one of the most accomplished and original poets to emerge in years."—The Believer "With vacant space and verbal economy, his work suggests volumes." —Poets & Writers The poems in Michael Dickman’s energized debut document the bright desires and all-too-common sufferings of modern times: the churn of domestic violence, spiritual longing, drug abuse, and the impossible expectations fathers have for their sons. In a poem that references heroin and “scary parents,” Dickman reminds us that “Still there is a lot to pray to on earth.” Dickman is a poet to watch. You can go blind, waiting Unbelievable quiet except for their soundings Moving the sea around Unbelievable quiet inside you, as they change the face of water The only other time I felt this still was watching Leif shoot up when we were twelve Sunlight all over his face breaking the surface of something I couldn’t see You can wait your whole life Michael Dickman was born and raised in Portland, Oregon, and began writing poems “after accidentally reading a Neruda ode.” His work has appeared in The New Yorker, Tin House, and The American Poetry Review. Review:"Some form of light — sunlight, moonlight, starlight, streetlight — appears in every one of the 18 poems in Dickman's debut. Slight and spare, the poems' frequent recurring themes accumulate beneficially, linking all the individual poems into one, more substantial, piece. Nothing grand takes place in these poems, but the quietness of the language and the creeping, sinister subject matter (heroin addiction, abusive fathers) make this highly anticipated book captivating and very readable, 'a nice description of something beautiful that doesn't exist anymore,' as Dickman writes. Elsewhere, he grimly recalls, 'No one I loved had died for almost two years // Then Amy bled out / in a bathtub.' As one half of the Dickman twins (both are actors, and the other, Matthew, also recently published his first poetry collection), Michael has received the kind of advance publicity rare for a new poet. Profiles in both Poets and Writers and the New Yorker as well as publication during National Poetry Month should ensure a larger than usual audience. And the attention is not undeserved; Dickman's book moves with careful intensity as it confidently illuminates buried, contemporary suffering: 'My little sister, tied to her trundle bed, crying, forced to eat slices of orange/ she believed were her goldfish.'" Publishers Weekly (Starred Review) (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.) Synopsis:Profiled in The New Yorker, this debut marks a talent to watch for years to come. Synopsis:Poetry. The poems in Michael Dickman's energized debut document the bright desires and all-too-common sufferings of modern times: the churn of domestic violence, spiritual longing, drug abuse, and the impossible expectations fathers have for their sons. In a poem that references heroin and "scary parents," Dickman reminds us that "Still there is a lot to pray to on earth." Dickman is a poet to watch. Synopsis:“The rising poetry stars? Well, you know there was someone we published just the other day [in The New Yorker] whose work I really like. Michael Dickman his name is. . . . Nothing makes me happier than the thought that there is going to be somebody coming down the road who is going to be scintillating.”—Paul Muldoon, The New Yorker The poems in Michael Dickman’s energized debut document the bright desires and all-too-common sufferings of modern times: the churn of domestic violence, spiritual longing, drug abuse, and the impossible expectations fathers have for their sons. In a poem that references heroin and “scary parents,” Dickman reminds us that “Still there is a lot to pray to on earth.” Dickman is a poet to watch. You can go blind, waiting Unbelievable quiet Moving the sea around Unbelievable quiet inside you, as they change The only other time I felt this still was watching Leif shoot up when we were twelve Sunlight all over his face breaking You can wait your Michael Dickmanwas born and raised in Portland, Oregon, and began writing poems “after accidentally reading a Neruda ode.” His work has appeared in The New Yorker, Tin House, and The American Poetry Review. What Our Readers Are SayingAdd a comment for a chance to win!Average customer rating based on 1 comment: 
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