"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
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