Poetry. Our senses entrust to us the world that the heart minds, and so gives us a point of view, the "sight we hope to see through (to) / Always." Deeply attentive to form and music, each of these poems, written between the early eighties and mid-nineties, serves as a trust for the mending of that sense of separateness. Ever the stranger in yet another strange place-in subway and orchard, ER and library, cemetery and classroom-they ask: "What is the shape /" of the story? "Who is mindful of me?" and sometimes answer: "Thank you, I have enjoyed / imagining all this."
Lori A. May at Gently Read LiteratureStephen Burt at The BelieverLisbeth Cheever-Gessaman at CommonLineEileen Tabios at Galatea ResurrectsChristina Mengert at The Constant Critic
Liz Waldner grew up in rural Mississippi and earned a BA in mathematics and philosophy at St. John's College and an MFA at the Iowa Writer's Workshop. Her first book of poetry, HOMING DEVICES (O Books, 1998), came after an 18-year silence; since then, Waldner has published prolifically. Her recent books include A Point Is That Which Has No Part (2000), which won both the Iowa Poetry Prize and the James Laughlin Award, Self and Simulacra (2001), Dark Would (the missing person) (2002), TRUST (Cleveland State University Poetry Center, 2009), Play (Lightful Press, 2009), HER FAITHFULNESS (Miami University Press, 2016), and LITTLE HOUSE, BIG HOUSE (Noemi Press, 2016). Author City: LAS CRUCES, NM USA