By: William Nericcio

She wielded mad intellectual superpowers.

By: Brian Berger

He made paradoxic human music of despair.

By: Jerrold Freitag

She strolled in the no man’s land between seeing too much and innocence.

By: Brian Berger

Spare, coiled works of un­settling philosoph­ical rigor

By: Mark Kingwell

There is a kind of artist whose career makes no sense.

By: Joshua Glenn

His ennui and spleen were visceral reactions to emergent neoliberalism.

By: Lucy Sante

“Poetry should be made by all. Not by one.”

By: Mike Fleisch

Ex postcard facto

By: Alix Lambert

“If an upset stomach is anticipated, remove”

By: Alix Lambert

He wrote about fear, boredom, insecurity, sadness, and confusion.

By: Devin McKinney

In his poetry, Nature is eerily alive, a conspiracy of omens.

By: Clark Ashton Smith

“Through gulfs that mightily divide/Like to an intervital sleep”

By: H.D.

“Your star, steel-set, keeps lone and frigid tryst/to freighted ships”

By: Edward Shanks

Thou sorry brat! Thou transatlantic clown!

By: Brian Berger

She starred in four films that made her a noir icon.