A Fiddle Pulled from the Throat of a Sparrow

" . . . the 33 archly titled poems and sequences in Gordon's fourth collection attempt to assemble, sometimes like a computer running a poetic algorithm, a hallowed new world flush in art and music. Written with exactness (sonnet sequences, a series of seven line poems, anaphora, etc.), the pieces are thickly smattered with the bedrock and easy emotion of the deep image, the hipster-abstract, and bible-ese: 'the sound of smoke // was that of expansion // but the breaking of bread // like a dusk-shadow // became a name // losing itself in echo.'" --Publishers Weekly

About the Author :
NOAH ELI GORDON is the author of eight books, including The Year of the Rooster (Ahsahta Press, 2013), The Source (Futurepoem, 2011), and Novel Pictorial Noise (Harper Perennial, 2007), which was selected by John Ashbery for the National Poetry Series and subsequently chosen for the San Francisco State Poetry Center Book Award. Gordon is the co-publisher of Letter Machine Editions, an editor with The Volta, and an Assistant Professor in the MFA program in Creative Writing at The University of Colorado-Boulder, where he currently directs Subito Press.

Review :
"With obfuscating cascades of images and precisely tumbling syntax, the 33 archly titled poems and sequences in Gordon's fourth collection attempt to assemble, sometimes like a computer running a poetic algorithm, a hallowed new world flush in art and music. Written with exactness (sonnet sequences, a series of seven line poems, anaphora, etc.), the pieces are thickly smattered with the bedrock and easy emotion of the deep image, the hipster-abstract, and bible-ese: the sound of smoke // was that of expansion // but the breaking of bread // like a dusk-shadow // became a name // losing itself in echo. When Gordon (Novel Pictorial Noise, chosen by John Ashbery for the National Poetry Series) directs instead of alludes, wonderful harmonies accrete from these patterns: forget almond trees, grapes & poppies // what he wouldn't believe is the inescapable music here // the night filling with beloved firetrucks // cover your ears to cover the passing sirens // praise the passing sirens. An intellectual latitude is at work here: Gordon references Barthes, Holderlin, Novalis, Stein, Twombly and many others that shadow the cacophony here. If the reader is sometimes pushed away by all the activity, the verse that floats to the top can be stunning."-- "Publishers Weekly"