Description:

“It’s time to gather rest under duress.” Music and its family of allied arts reigns high in the world Logan Ryan Smith has carved for his Singers. Dance and ritual act as counterforces to the martial law the poem has been written under, in this time of Iraq incursion that touches every aspect of our lives. Smith sends out these poems like bulletins to his heroes, his confreres, his girlfriends, his dead; in the serial form pioneered by Jack Spicer, John Ashbery, Robin Blaser, and Larry Kearney, the tropes rumble like card tricks—Spicer’s forests, diamonds, Giants and knights advance and retreat across a musical chessboard. If there was no one else writing poetry in all of the Bay Area, we would still be “covered”; with Logan Ryan Smith at bat we’ll see angels in the outfield. —Kevin Killian