Stone . . . hewn by nature and the hand of man. It shelters us, records our grief, provides hope, joy, and a window into the past. He stretches his prairie eyes far across the ocean to the cathedrals and monuments of Europe and connects our curling rinks and skipping stones to places rich in history.
Dennis Cooley’s poetic meditation on “stones” is an expansive collage of locating the self in the diaspora of mythology, history, geography, and literature. Because this is a long poem of contemplation, Cooley’s locus mundi performs the outstanding range of skill and practice he is able to bring from a life of writing and attention. He is a master of poetry as technique and here shows us how such art can really “make the stone stony."
Fred wah, author of is a door
Look what a long poem can do, when it pursues the grubby and the grand with equal belief, nods to its mixed bag of forebears, and takes no syllable or line for granite, as the pun goes. Best of all, Cooley’s the stones plays hard.
Gerald Hill, author of 14 Tractors
Turnstone Press Ltd.
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