The Police

The Police

by Daniel Poppick

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Overview

The Police by Daniel Poppick

“We are the coast of technology,” and Daniel Poppick’s debut tracks the signal coming in towards shore. Charged with an electric syntax, haunted by lyric history, and “gripped in gravity’s mood,” the poems in The Police ask: How do we navigate the miasma that we call a common language? And what is the clumsy, mythic force dictating our movement and relations? Who granted it this power? As Poppick endeavors to reconcile individual desire with the demands of a beloved collective, he finds a radical vulnerability lurking behind the curtain in the theater of friendship: the speech passing between us has a life of its own, the root of our tragicomedy and our only hope.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781632430342
Publisher: Omnidawn Publishing
Publication date: 02/07/2017
Pages: 136
Sales rank: 1,261,806
Product dimensions: 5.90(w) x 8.80(h) x 0.50(d)

About the Author

DANIEL POPPICK'S work has been recognized with fellowships fromYaddo, the MacDowell Colony, and the Iowa Writers' Workshop, where he earned his MFA in 2011. A graduate of Kenyon College, he has taught writing and literature at SUNY Purchase College, Coe College,Victoria University (New Zealand), and the University of Iowa. He lives in Brooklyn, where he coedits the Catenary Press.

Table of Contents

PINK STONES

I.

TO ARRIVE WITH CARTOON DEVOTIONS
“SUCKING THE SHERBETS, CROONING THE TUNES,”
LIKE A FIRE THE CRICKETS GO ALL MAFIA INSIDE OF
IDLE VEINS CONDUCTED IN GARDENS OF THE IDIOT BOY
CATS
PARADISE
IN THE THIRD PERSON
A NORTHIST
APPETITE TECHNICIAN
THE GRAVE OF HIERONYMUS HALFPENNY

II.

POOR JAMES
THE CONSTANT PHRENOLOGY
FONT
DIARY

III.

ANTIBODY
PAPYRUS FAIL
NEST EDIT
WHITES
OUTLET
CHAMPAGNE YEAR
DANCING ON MY OWN

COLLECTED ANTHEM
SNEAKY FUME
BONE MACHINE
INDEPENDENCE DAY MANIFESTO
POEM ENDING WITH THE SOUND OF CROOKS
FROM THE SIGNAL TOWERS
SNEAKY FREEZE
A RUBBER LION

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
THE POLICE
GLASS HORSE

THE APPLE'S FLOOR

RENT
OUTLET
CHAMPAGNE YEAR
DANCING ON MY OWN

IV.

COLLECTED ANTHEM
SNEAKY FUME
BONE MACHINE
INDEPENDENCE DAY MANIFESTO
POEM ENDING WITH THE SOUND OF CROOKS
FROM THE SIGNAL TOWERS
SNEAKY FREEZE
A RUBBER LION

V.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
THE POLICE
GLASS HORSE

*

THE APPLE’S FLOOR

What People are Saying About This

Cathy Park Hong

“With mesmerizing dexterity, Daniel Poppick captures a consciousness hived by the augmented realities of contemporary life. As distance collapses into sharable moments, he questions how we can sustain intimacy when we cease distinguishing our somatic experiences from our avatars; how to disrupt when disruption itself is privatized; how to connect when connection itself is privatized? Each poem reads like exquisite comment streams of the mind. Poppick writes with beauty, wit, and compassion.”

Robyn Schiff

“As you near the conclusion of Poppick’s gorgeous collection, having followed the drive of his propulsive grammar through remarkably moving poems that manage wild elaboration with the bite of aphorism, you come upon a speaker, himself on the way to a poetry reading, let’s call him Poppick, being pulled over by the police: “You shrugged & I, / A little alarmed / By exposure to a force / Coiled more tightly than my own / Followed him and & fixed / Myself in his front seat.” Poppick and the officer share a brief and official conversation about the speaker’s vocation, poetry, and “I discerned a muted affection, but will never be certain / As sympathy & contempt often run the same drills / On the field of the face.” This is a collection replete with the vulnerable pathos of possible connections like this one, tense with longing, and bright with tender, brilliant wit that’s turned by the torque of exquisite syntax. This is one of my very favorite new collections. It reminds me why I read poems in the first place. “Remember how you once / Kissed a map / And it was cool and bottomless…”? This book is that kiss.”

Mónica de la Torre

“Now I am older, don’t think in words.” Poppick’s poems live up to the claim. Thinking in words might entail articulating orderly, permissible ideas. This is closer to the police’s job, yet who doesn’t have an inner cop? “Thus I am inwardly my police,” he writes. Reminding us of how “unvarious by comparison” ordinary language is, Poppick’s poetry amazes as the result of perceiving in words, full on, riotously.

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