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“From the cheap seats, those in the back of the house or the most distant reaches of the balcony, the view is different. What is missed in subtlety is made up for by the wider range of vision. From up high and far behind you can see more than the stage, and some of the more interesting moments take place in the margins. Not only do you see the sets, but you see them being built; not only do you see the stars, but you see the reflectors that give them light. In this first collection, Poole looks into the wings, noticing the story behind the story. His poems concern not his friend who goes crazy, but the reaction of those close to him. For him, the chimneys of a distant community look like cemetary stones, and they take his thoughts beyond the here and now. He doesn’t have to know a New York woman to imagine one: ‘long hair/ they are always combing,/ thick hair that gets loose/ and crawls down the skyscraper.’ William Stafford said that poets see things in a slant way, from a corner of their eyes. From Poole’s cheap seats, there’s a lot more to see.”–Library Journal
Scott Poole is the author of one other book of poetry, Hiding from Salesmen. He is the resident poet of Oregon Public Broadcasting’s monthly show “Live Wire!” and the director of Wordstock, Portland’s Annual Festival of the Book. He lives in Vancouver, Washington.
“From the cheap seats, those in the back of the house or the most distant reaches of the balcony, the view is different. What is missed in subtlety is made up for by the wider range of vision. From up high and far behind you can see more than the stage, and some of the more interesting moments take place in the margins. Not only do you see the sets, but you see them being built; not only do you see the stars, but you see the reflectors that give them light. In this first collection, Poole looks into the wings, noticing the story behind the story. His poems concern not his friend who goes crazy, but the reaction of those close to him. For him, the chimneys of a distant community look like cemetary stones, and they take his thoughts beyond the here and now. He doesn’t have to know a New York woman to imagine one: ‘long hair/ they are always combing,/ thick hair that gets loose/ and crawls down the skyscraper.’ William Stafford said that poets see things in a slant way, from a corner of their eyes. From Poole’s cheap seats, there’s a lot more to see.”–Library Journal
| Dimensions | N/A |
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| Format | Paperback |
