Hudson Review, Vol. LXIV, no. 3, Autumn 2011
The poetry is desperately bad. “The most beautiful bird I ever saw close up / was a flicker, a kind of over-sized woodpecker, dead / on prairie spring mud behind the house where I wrote / all day. Birdscratch. Wordprocessor-slow. / Peck. Peck. The scarlet head I saw on a walk. // Folded wings a black-and-white pattern of feathers / like a royal cape. Its rosy-brown back. Feet / and underfeathers yellow. It lay on its side. / No blood anywhere. Audubon perfect. / Soundless as a page or a print when it’s finished.”
The prose is superficial and redundant, a defense of Frost against its author’s own “uneasy feeling” occasioned by a silly misreading of “Two Tramps in Mud Time”, for instance, though he gives all of “A Roadside Stand” and it’s worth the price even if he reads that wrong, too.
The Missouri Review, Vol. 34, No. 3, Fall 2011
“Graffiti is hardwired into society,” says The Missouri Review, citing Cleopatra, Julius Caesar, and Lord Byron to its thesis, more, it shows you pages of full-color spread..
On the other hand, “I just don’t think any of the arts are really at the center of our culture right now.”
Can we speak of a position? “He thought about things.”
Hayden’s Ferry Review, Issue 49, Fall/Winter 2011
Hayden’s Ferry Review, too, has full-color spreads, photo-portraits of plastic surgery patients, also kids and critters, eccentricities and whatnots.
“Life and art constitute a unity.”
“A few nameless poems, weary of their travels…”
“Even the dead have dreams.”
“Already too late. Before I / get lost.”
“Our hands sort nothing but our own lies / and the unreachable Eid”.
“I’m interested in the various economies of the human imagination.”
The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, Vol. XXI, No. 3, Fall 2011
It’s been said before, and it’ll probably be said again, you can’t make a silk purse of The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, not even with a feature on the Egg Money Poets, what with “If Plath Had Reached Middle Age” and “On the Day Fay Wray Died at the Age of 96”, etc.
“There is nowhere that is nowhere,” says the editor, “here is no one who is no one.”
The Sewanee Review, Vol. CXIX, No. 4, Fall 2011
The poetry remembers Sassoon, “Siegfried, today I fenced in the gooseberries using wire cutters”, Andromache, Hector, Civil War worthies, Omaha Beach, Lew Wallace, Truman “up and dressed by six” at Potsdam, knowns and unknowns.
“The editors of the Sewanee Review are pleased to announce that Billy Collins is the twenty-fifth recipient of the Aiken Taylor Award in Modern American Poetry.”
There is an essay on Churchill, “he rescued Great Britain (and thereby, it may be, the entire West)”, one on Anthony Hecht who served in Japan after the war, one on Napoleon in Russia.
Book reviews, “The State of Letters”, “Arts and Letters”.