Description: "Prepare to be dazzled; the poet is one of our best. Here everything speaks, not only Adam and his serpent, the angels and their demons, but everywhere voices (are) steaming in the air like hot milk, and the wind rises to whatever Earth says when we listen. These poems will take your breath away. They will give you your life back. What discourse is not magic?"-- Rikki Ducornet
Review Quotes: Caught mired down, as it were, in some Louisiana bog with the nutria rats of such waterways, amongst the wankers and assorted riff raffs of literary professor-poets, Skip Fox has been writing poems of a stable luminosity of which The Poets do dig. Let it be said, his work is well above par; never to be found about to back down from looking a glum wit or kilobyte trawling neophyte in the eye and calling out the kooks in the literary (& literal) machinery of the imagination. Fox is never boring. He is always pushing the language of the poem to yield to the point of bursting; he s never easing off as so many others do to lazily spit out fine muffins from off his haunches. Firmly refusing to participate in the charade of undeserved kickbacks and easy slings of rehashed gimmick, Fox is nothing less than all in. A colossus of a grasp at an endeavor that s rather appropriately headed nowhere in particular, Fox s work is a life s work, is the life work. It is a following through on the injunction given in Robert Duncan s statement Fox uses as epigraph to this Selected, we obey the orders that appear in our work. This isn t a priority of picking up on skill so much as it is tune. The Poet must hear what is read. In the end, it comes to a well measured living. Between the writing and the reading, arrives the composition of the whole. --Patrick James Dunagan, Switchback, May 7th, 2012"