By: Amanda French
She refused, refused, refused.
By: Franklin Bruno
“Do not sing to rain, poet, make it rain.”
By: Mark Kingwell
Her slant rhymes were radically proto-modernist.
Clarity and balance, not disorientation, were his artistic mainsprings.
Imaginative play that constructs a world available to experience.
By: Gary Panter
Without him, The Sixties as we know them might not have happened.
Elected to poetry like a fucking nun with a “vocation.”
From his mother’s sleep he fell into the State.
By: Alix Lambert
“Pain… calls me over and wants to know the secret of reaching you”
By: Lucy Sante
He brought Surrealism into being.
By: Anthony Miller
He mixed total irreverence with profound compassion.
By: Devin McKinney
The tubercular cousin in our family of vigorous visionaries.
A teenage runaway who happened to be possessed of genius.
By: Tor Aarestad
His antihero, Pechorin, would kill on reality TV.
By: Adam McGovern
Bridging irreconcilable ideas was the matrix of his art.