With mercurial wands, Baals angels, decks with wild Jacks of oracle
bones, tempest Serpens, Lord Byron on the Bridge of Sighs,
stallions mottled grey, a dark blue stronger than the Flemish blue
of hummingbirds, and poesis lying in the ashes of a dress, Janet
Hamill turns her wizard poets eye on an immense body of alchemical
empathies. This book is a romantic, surreal, lyrical Voyage. It
twists and turns with the playful tide of poetic vision, enhanced
by the delicate measures of Patti Smiths photography. Kudos all
around.
Anne Waldman
Reading Janet Hamill now, as I have over the last thirty years, Im
amazed again at the particulars of the world her poetry makesa
night world, as I read it, peopled with bright creatures and
splashes of color, beautiful and terrifying by turns. With this
there is a mix, too, of pop forms and strains, and of catholic and
pagan names and imagesangels and saints and hermitsas in the vision
of her sleeping gypsy: firebird sweets / a morsel a taste of
carrion / . . . as in a dream. With this and much more, she has
become indispensable.
Jerome Rothenberg
With its unbridled surrealistic, hypnotic imagery, Janet Hamills
alchemy of language gives us back communion with our souls. With a
magicians grace she reminds us of the enchantment of our being.
Hers is a music both modern and magik.
Maureen Owen
. . . Janet Hamill has sought transcendence in language on the
page or sung . . . Hamills mastery of form and feeling comes
together to create a poem that delicately examines celebrity,
gallantry, silence, talent, and beauty. Only a poet could do that.
Or maybe only Janet Hamill.
Patricia Spears Jones
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