Prose poetry more anti-matter than literature, shards of glacial beauty, words bleached of context and affect decaying in space.
"A slyer, hipper Beckett for the post-crack generation. Michael... More > McAloran is one to watch out for." Sandy Hook (Black Wurm Gism magazine)< Less
"Michael Mc Aloran’s ’All Stepped/ Undone’ is a canvas strewn with cut-up compositions like dismembered limbs that structure foreboding and challenging pieces of poetry. It... More > explores realms such as the negation of being, the catharsis of existence and a nothing that is embraced via the onslaught of flesh and bone that is the ennui of I. It’s almost Baudelaire’s spleen in autopsy, dissected with a Bataillean scalpel. Here, the language is vitriolic, and mosaic-like; a smashed stained glass window of a church – all beliefs of man refuted except for the excavation of oneself from a world aborted."
Craig Podmore< Less
"with poetry and poets, with art, it seems a veritable probability that in the "produce" of this art there are personal developments going on which affect this art and making it a... More > "developmental" "work in progress" even if the art executed, in this instance fullblooded poetry, is expressed in a continuous stream of perfectly formed and inherently consistent isles of artistry, expression, expulsion even exorcism orexoticism. this is in my opinion highly the case with michael mcaloran's poetry and the steady produce of high quality immanently consistent collections of poems resulting also subsequently in this striking chromatography of books."
from the introduction by Aad de Gids< Less
In this world of Mc Aloran’s there is no definitive suffering. One accumulates scars like years; not always aware of each day, each slice into flesh. It is both an accumulative living and... More > dying; a horror and a wry smile at the ongoing absurdity and meaninglessness of existence.
from the introduction by Gillian Prew< Less
"Michael Mc Aloran's new collection is a series of stunning prose poetry novellas that foreclose on the debt where the lesion was, the small scars in the places where meaning was torn from the... More > broken body. The broken bodies are left to console themselves with alcohol, ejaculation, damaged words. Names do not apply to temporary fragmented things & love is a wound; wherever consolation is, it is not to be found among humans. It is not made of words. Get this book, it is not there to console you for anything or to render the night less murderous. There is no catharsis here, just the naked asshole of a dead god nailed spreadeagled across the sky to remind you of the nothing. & that is the only valid purpose of art."
--David McLean< Less