Poetry. Art. "'I'm dressed like a Jamestown cannibal / In a city of mistake babies with e-cash,' writes Amling in an astute and challenging debut collection that's both deeply poignant and darkly humorous. Like a deadpan oracle or font of offbeat wisdom you didn't know you needed to know, Amling acts as a guide through the ersatz Epicureanism of contemporary America, where 'freedom still remains monetary.' He opens with a brief series of poems that are composed of cuts and outtakes—'Like a polygraph of a satellite'—that serves as a junkyard ars poetica. A visual artist adept in the medium of collage, he expresses these poems as social critique delivered through a signal scrambler. But his critique often extends to the practice of making art itself: 'I know many people living lives of artistic practice / that cannot take care of themselves, / and not out of paraplegic circumstance. // Art has not refined them.' Reading through 'Ill Estates,' 'Rare and Special Interests,' and 'Liquid Assets,' one encounters characteristically playful statements such as 'It is not so hard / To accept meaninglessness / Acceptance is very meaningful.' Amling has designed a gallery installation of poetry that one returns to for the pleasure of its unsolvable mysteries, 'A collection of space / That I curate / Where I forgive myself.'"—Publishers Weekly
"'Poetry, like cat urine, can ruin the integrity of a room,' writes Eric Amling, but 'it can also be a stealthy dominatrix.' It is and does both in these startled, subversive poems, which churn up a disordered glee. But it's reassuring to know that 'All of these works will be filed in a custom matrix / Approved by third-tier analysts / In a hall of dueling national anthems.'"—John Ashbery
Eric Amling (b. 1981) lives and works in New York City. His work has been exhibited in various cities in the United States. This is his debut collection.
Author City: BROOKLYN, NY USA