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Dispatch from the Future: Poems
Goodreads Choice Award
Nominee for Readers' Favorite Poetry (2012)Funny, surprising and lyrical, these poems range from the deserts of the Southwest to the abysses of Facebook. From online dating to beauty pageants, Greek mythology to road trips, Leigh Stein gives us resilient young women in longing and in love.
Post-confessional—like Sylvia Plath raised on MTV, or Anne Sexton on Twitter—the poems seduce with a narrative hook or startle with a pop culture reference, all the while wrestling fresh meaning out of our fantasy-saturated modern lives.
Post-confessional—like Sylvia Plath raised on MTV, or Anne Sexton on Twitter—the poems seduce with a narrative hook or startle with a pop culture reference, all the while wrestling fresh meaning out of our fantasy-saturated modern lives.
144 pages, Paperback
First published July 24, 2012
7 people are currently reading
926 people want to read
About the author
Leigh Stein
9 books379 followersLeigh Stein makes fun of what the internet is doing to us. She is the author of six books, including the critically acclaimed satirical novel SELF CARE and the bestselling gothic mystery IF YOU'RE SEEING THIS, IT'S MEANT FOR YOU. She has written culture pieces and personal essays for the New York Times, the Washington Post, the New Yorker online, Airmail, Allure, ELLE, BuzzFeed, The Cut, Salon, and Slate.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 49 reviews
April 2, 2022
HAPPY POETRY MONTH!
april is national poetry month,
so here come thirty floats!
the cynics here will call this plan
a shameless grab for votes.
and maybe there’s some truth to that—
i do love validation,
but charitably consider it
a rhyme-y celebration.
i don’t intend to flood your feed—
i’ll just post one a day.
endure four weeks of reruns
and then it will be may!
********************************************
life is only too short if you are having a good time.
those of you who know me know that i am not really a poetry girl. the last poetry book i tried to read, i got 3/4 through before i realized "i am not really having any fun reading this." so i stopped. and i never stop reading books, even when they are horrible. but it is actually not all that hard to give up on a poetry book, it's not like you are going to wonder forever how it ends.
but this book is by leigh stein! and her novel,The Fallback Plan, blew me away, and this made me think i could enjoy poetry if she was at its helm. and when she started incorporating choose-your-own-adventure references in the middle of her poems, and even opened the first part with an epigraph from one of those books, i knew i was going to be a fan.
my favorite poem overall is addendum to the previous dispatch:
I just remembered every single thing I've ever done
and now I'm embarrassed. I want my afterlife
guaranteed, so I have ordered a tomb built at Giza
for my remains. They are as follows: all my clothes,
my harmonica, my body, letters to my enemies.
The dictionary says you can refer to everyone
who will be alive in the future as prosperity so
Dear Prosperity, I used to live in the future,
too, but i fear the past is a brushfire
and I am a prairie. Now that i have what I asked for
I see I should have been more specific.
but she also has wonderful isolated lines within poems that manage to be cute and sad all in the same breath:
I would love to come back as a faucet. Or a radiator or an ice cube tray shaped like a dozen little fish. Everybody loves those.
oh, and the oregon trail poem made me, dare i say?? LOL.
nicely done.
i am definitely glad to have given poetry another chance, and i am disappointed that this book didn't make it into the goodreads awards finals, even though i voted for it in the semifinals. damn you, mary oliver!! but you should read it anyway, "you."
i will leave you with this line, from the opening poem:
The great R.A. Montgomery once wrote,
"Suddenly you're surrounded by eleven Nodoors," and I
guess what i'm trying to do here is ruin any hope
you may have had of coming out of this alive.
go, now.
come to my blog!
april is national poetry month,
so here come thirty floats!
the cynics here will call this plan
a shameless grab for votes.
and maybe there’s some truth to that—
i do love validation,
but charitably consider it
a rhyme-y celebration.
i don’t intend to flood your feed—
i’ll just post one a day.
endure four weeks of reruns
and then it will be may!
********************************************
life is only too short if you are having a good time.
those of you who know me know that i am not really a poetry girl. the last poetry book i tried to read, i got 3/4 through before i realized "i am not really having any fun reading this." so i stopped. and i never stop reading books, even when they are horrible. but it is actually not all that hard to give up on a poetry book, it's not like you are going to wonder forever how it ends.
but this book is by leigh stein! and her novel,The Fallback Plan, blew me away, and this made me think i could enjoy poetry if she was at its helm. and when she started incorporating choose-your-own-adventure references in the middle of her poems, and even opened the first part with an epigraph from one of those books, i knew i was going to be a fan.
my favorite poem overall is addendum to the previous dispatch:
I just remembered every single thing I've ever done
and now I'm embarrassed. I want my afterlife
guaranteed, so I have ordered a tomb built at Giza
for my remains. They are as follows: all my clothes,
my harmonica, my body, letters to my enemies.
The dictionary says you can refer to everyone
who will be alive in the future as prosperity so
Dear Prosperity, I used to live in the future,
too, but i fear the past is a brushfire
and I am a prairie. Now that i have what I asked for
I see I should have been more specific.
but she also has wonderful isolated lines within poems that manage to be cute and sad all in the same breath:
I would love to come back as a faucet. Or a radiator or an ice cube tray shaped like a dozen little fish. Everybody loves those.
oh, and the oregon trail poem made me, dare i say?? LOL.
nicely done.
i am definitely glad to have given poetry another chance, and i am disappointed that this book didn't make it into the goodreads awards finals, even though i voted for it in the semifinals. damn you, mary oliver!! but you should read it anyway, "you."
i will leave you with this line, from the opening poem:
The great R.A. Montgomery once wrote,
"Suddenly you're surrounded by eleven Nodoors," and I
guess what i'm trying to do here is ruin any hope
you may have had of coming out of this alive.
go, now.
come to my blog!
October 30, 2012
This is a definitive example of poetry that is boring. Primarily strings of thoughts, meant to shock or disturb you, and then disorient the reader in an attempt to relate to slews of Internet saturated twenty-somethings. Littered with abstract pronouns, run on and incomplete sentences and ultimately, nothing spectacular or innovative. Attention, we want it.
I used to think that I was missing something in this kind of poetry, and then I just realized there was nothing to understand, because it isn't about anything. They are thoughts, not poetry.
There was a bear in the four door sedan and the bear was drinking tonic water. You put your hand on the radio dial and a song by your favorite singer was on and the bear spat out the water and we exploded into an orchid blooming we are blooming we are blooming.
Please, please stop, young poets. Please.
I used to think that I was missing something in this kind of poetry, and then I just realized there was nothing to understand, because it isn't about anything. They are thoughts, not poetry.
There was a bear in the four door sedan and the bear was drinking tonic water. You put your hand on the radio dial and a song by your favorite singer was on and the bear spat out the water and we exploded into an orchid blooming we are blooming we are blooming.
Please, please stop, young poets. Please.
December 16, 2012
if i could write poems like leigh stein i'd feel fucking triumphant and also proud.
August 11, 2012
I won this book through the first-reads program.
I found this book absolutely delightful, a bit thought provoking, and very rhythmical. The cadence of the poems is a bit infectious. The poems are funny, evocative, and clever in unexpected places. The words bounce off the page in excitement, and then sulk back only to cut through with an unexpected remark.
Leigh Stein is well versed in mythology, and "Oregon Trail". She writes with a cynicism that tends towards the snarky rather than the hurtful. Her poems burst at the seams, and would be best read with a grin and curious expectation.
I normally don't read books of poetry, but this one was a good exception. What fun, what bright eyed stares, and what an interesting future. I wouldn't object to living in Switzerland, even if everyone else is missable and sexy.
I found this book absolutely delightful, a bit thought provoking, and very rhythmical. The cadence of the poems is a bit infectious. The poems are funny, evocative, and clever in unexpected places. The words bounce off the page in excitement, and then sulk back only to cut through with an unexpected remark.
Leigh Stein is well versed in mythology, and "Oregon Trail". She writes with a cynicism that tends towards the snarky rather than the hurtful. Her poems burst at the seams, and would be best read with a grin and curious expectation.
I normally don't read books of poetry, but this one was a good exception. What fun, what bright eyed stares, and what an interesting future. I wouldn't object to living in Switzerland, even if everyone else is missable and sexy.
December 24, 2012
I watched Moonrise Kingdom yesterday, and then finished this book today, and that's when it occurred to me that part of the reason I like this poetry is that it reminds me of a Wes Anderson film. The imagery is very strong, but also seemingly very random, and it makes me feel nostalgic for something I'm not really familiar with.
Also, it makes me think of Garden State, the way the poems take me to all these weird places that I never expected to be going, like a trailer house on the edge of a giant sink hole.
Excellent poetry. I plan to read it multiple times.
Also, it makes me think of Garden State, the way the poems take me to all these weird places that I never expected to be going, like a trailer house on the edge of a giant sink hole.
Excellent poetry. I plan to read it multiple times.
July 9, 2017
There were some really nice lines, but on the whole I didn't really feel anything.
December 14, 2021
this book was not it
in the future I will go back in time and say hey Aaron
do not read this
in the future I will go back in time and say hey Aaron
do not read this
February 1, 2022
inspired me to do some writing even though i didnt like it very much
January 12, 2014
About halfway through reading this collection of poems, I came to a serious question about what poetry is and, more specifically, what /good/ poetry is.
I don't think this book is the latter, and it seemed only in parts to be the former.
What most of Stein's poems seem to attempt is more or less the same from snippet to snippet; you're presented with disjointed, rambling voices alluding to things you maybe can't quite make out, there's some interconnected stream-of-consciousness and bizarre references, occasionally a joke or two, and then the poem ends. The actual body of the text almost seemed so meaningless to me that I'm tempted to label it word-soup; the sentences gave the idea of something, but never with enough clarity or specificity to make it seem coherent. As someone who is a huge fan of parataxis when utilized properly, I feel compelled to say, this certainly isn't it.
This is what I've always thought was terrible poetry; poems that only make sense to the writer. Poems that amble without fluidity or purpose, poems that are bogged down in their own composition. Poems that all sound the same.
I will say there were some moments I enjoyed throughout, notably those that were humourous. I particularly liked the line "I want to fake my death on Facebook. I want a pony.", if only because it was something direct and understandable—and, hey, jarring in a good way. I didn't expect to get hit with that at the end of the poem, it made me laugh, and I flipped to the next page looking for more. Instead, I found more strewn-together ramblings that painted the fuzziest outline possible of a subject or story I could theoretically piece together.
I also took issue with one particular poem, "For Those Who Have Everything, Say It With Concrete". As I was going through the poem, I realized it was a direct reference to The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje (one of my favorite novels), essentially a visiting of what Katherine Clifton might have been thinking while she waited in the Cave of the Swimmers for her lover that would never return in time. Something jumped inside me that I can only describe as a minor euphoria about the realization; but after thinking about it for a while longer, I wondered, "Why did I feel that? Simply because this poem references something I know and like?"
Reading it over again, the poem doesn't /do/ anything unique. It doesn't present a novel perspective, it doesn't use ornate or interesting language, and it doesn't give me one damn thing to think about that the novel didn't do in a better way. So why is it there? Simply to provide the allusion? For someone who wasn't familiar with The English Patient, it would be almost meaningless—and that, in essence, is why I did not enjoy this book. It is obliqueness for the sake of obliqueness; haze for the love of fog.
I'm in a mental crisis because the litany of publishing locations at the back of the book suggest Stein's poetry is getting praise outside the book itself, and I'm wondering if this is a difference of opinion that can be reconciled solely as a matter of taste. I don't hold any ill will (other than the aforementioned English Patient poem), but I do wonder how something operating by all accounts against so many pillars of good poetry can be good for the craft of poetry as a whole.
I don't think this book is the latter, and it seemed only in parts to be the former.
What most of Stein's poems seem to attempt is more or less the same from snippet to snippet; you're presented with disjointed, rambling voices alluding to things you maybe can't quite make out, there's some interconnected stream-of-consciousness and bizarre references, occasionally a joke or two, and then the poem ends. The actual body of the text almost seemed so meaningless to me that I'm tempted to label it word-soup; the sentences gave the idea of something, but never with enough clarity or specificity to make it seem coherent. As someone who is a huge fan of parataxis when utilized properly, I feel compelled to say, this certainly isn't it.
This is what I've always thought was terrible poetry; poems that only make sense to the writer. Poems that amble without fluidity or purpose, poems that are bogged down in their own composition. Poems that all sound the same.
I will say there were some moments I enjoyed throughout, notably those that were humourous. I particularly liked the line "I want to fake my death on Facebook. I want a pony.", if only because it was something direct and understandable—and, hey, jarring in a good way. I didn't expect to get hit with that at the end of the poem, it made me laugh, and I flipped to the next page looking for more. Instead, I found more strewn-together ramblings that painted the fuzziest outline possible of a subject or story I could theoretically piece together.
I also took issue with one particular poem, "For Those Who Have Everything, Say It With Concrete". As I was going through the poem, I realized it was a direct reference to The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje (one of my favorite novels), essentially a visiting of what Katherine Clifton might have been thinking while she waited in the Cave of the Swimmers for her lover that would never return in time. Something jumped inside me that I can only describe as a minor euphoria about the realization; but after thinking about it for a while longer, I wondered, "Why did I feel that? Simply because this poem references something I know and like?"
Reading it over again, the poem doesn't /do/ anything unique. It doesn't present a novel perspective, it doesn't use ornate or interesting language, and it doesn't give me one damn thing to think about that the novel didn't do in a better way. So why is it there? Simply to provide the allusion? For someone who wasn't familiar with The English Patient, it would be almost meaningless—and that, in essence, is why I did not enjoy this book. It is obliqueness for the sake of obliqueness; haze for the love of fog.
I'm in a mental crisis because the litany of publishing locations at the back of the book suggest Stein's poetry is getting praise outside the book itself, and I'm wondering if this is a difference of opinion that can be reconciled solely as a matter of taste. I don't hold any ill will (other than the aforementioned English Patient poem), but I do wonder how something operating by all accounts against so many pillars of good poetry can be good for the craft of poetry as a whole.
February 18, 2013
I read this a few months ago in 2012, but I keep going back to it so I decided to write a review. I was blown away by Leigh Stein's poetry. She is playful and smart and her lines punch you the way poetry should punch you and she flirts with pop culture in a really wonderful way. I think if I had to choose a favorite poem, I'd choose "Based on a Book of the Same Title" which was based on "The Notebook," but I'm going to leave you with a poem that I think reflects well on the collection:
REVISIONISM
Listening to you in your sleep, pretending
this is just as good as if I were asleep myself,
the tender evening behind us like a jet trail
that wants to be read as a cloud and it looks
like a together tonight. I'm pretending your arms
are your arms, which is to say I'm not
pretending they belong to someone else,
good for me, but I'm still not above keeping track
of the anniversaries of everything I'm brokenhearted
over and this goes for men, departures
and arrivals, weddings I was not invited to
for good reason, achievements of my enemies.
I'm thinking about rewriting history so instead of jealousy
my major themes are revenge and justice, and
I'm going to the airport so we can miss each other more,
because I want a future to look forward to,
another new year already, noisemakers
and dry champagne and songs I know
the words to and the way you looked at me
at the costume party: I want another chance
for second changes. I never make the same mistake
more than four or twelve times, but enough
about you, tell me more about you.
REVISIONISM
Listening to you in your sleep, pretending
this is just as good as if I were asleep myself,
the tender evening behind us like a jet trail
that wants to be read as a cloud and it looks
like a together tonight. I'm pretending your arms
are your arms, which is to say I'm not
pretending they belong to someone else,
good for me, but I'm still not above keeping track
of the anniversaries of everything I'm brokenhearted
over and this goes for men, departures
and arrivals, weddings I was not invited to
for good reason, achievements of my enemies.
I'm thinking about rewriting history so instead of jealousy
my major themes are revenge and justice, and
I'm going to the airport so we can miss each other more,
because I want a future to look forward to,
another new year already, noisemakers
and dry champagne and songs I know
the words to and the way you looked at me
at the costume party: I want another chance
for second changes. I never make the same mistake
more than four or twelve times, but enough
about you, tell me more about you.
August 10, 2012
Loved it. Right from the beginning it sucks you in. I love these poems, but i especially enjoyed "Based on a Book of the Same Title," "Diary of a Young Girl, " and "Universalism." The poems are very universal. The reader connects to them in such a natural way. If you haven't seen Leigh read from this book, you should.
July 29, 2012
Much of the book seems to be a struggle for an authentic voice. Several of the poems made me think this was an exercise in smashing together unrelated words and phrases that however interesting on their own, did not add up to be more than the sum of the parts. A few highlights, such as Immortality, but mostly an uneven, unfinished collection.
February 23, 2016
I think I'm just not meant to read poetry. None of this made sense to me. I slogged through it just to be able to mark it as read instead of abandoned.
April 2, 2020
I've now read this book three times, three different ways.
The first time, I started at the beginning, but there are a number of poems that include Pic-A-Path phrases such as "turn to page ###", and when I reached that phrase, I would turn to that page, read that poem to its completion, and then return back to the space in the original poem.
The second time, I read it from front to back, in order.
This time, I started with the epigraph:
"If you attempt to leave this planet, turn to page 77.
If you decide to take the time to consider other options, turn to page 50."
--Edward Packard, "Through The Black Hole"
I started on page 77, and THEN I read it like a pick-a-path book. Next time, I'll start on page 50. So far, no way of reading it has been better or worse than the other ways. This is truly one of my favorite poetry collections of all time.
******************************
Original Review:
If you're going to judge a book by a cover, start with the spine. Do you catch the title with your eye? Is the font a soft bunt that floats right to you, or did you have to hoof it all the way to the warning track?
If the book was a person and you'd started with the spine, the back cover is the next logical place to linger over. Is it covered with quotes from strangers? Does the bio mention the number of cats in the author's house or is it scarred with the adjective “unique” at a particularly unappealing vertebra?
A book is not a person so don't feel creepy about getting inside it before you even see the front cover. (See paragraph sixteen)
If you read this book
sequentially, bad things may happen to you , but only as bad
as the things that would have happened to you anyway.
If, however, you do not read this book sequentially you may
find that you are suddenly aboard a sunken pirate ship,
staring into the deep abyss, and wishing you had chosen
not to chase the manatee in your submarine after all. Do not
panic. If you end up in the wrong adventure just go back
three spaces and draw another card.
It doesn't take a manatee to make you happy. You hope. There's no manatee in this story. You can't find the pirate ship. Flip to the front with its robin egg blue color, with its robin shit clouds, and the title on what is maybe supposed to be a billboard or a restaurant marquee but what reminds you of the part of the cash register that displays the amount of money you owe, which is more than you imagined it would be. But you didn't choose this book, this book chose you. The way this book store chose you. How the woman behind the counter didn't ask if she could help you, she said “Welcome. I haven't seen you in here before. I see you checking out the poetry section. I don't know a lot about poetry, could you recommend something to me?” And when you explained that you were not from the area, and that's why he hadn't seen you, she did not ask where you were from, she asked what your favorite independent bookstore was. Leaving this store without a new book would be a crime against literature and kindness. And, lo did your eyes not fall like a clunky simile but rather floated in the direction of Leigh Stein's book.
Up in the corner of the book, the only quote for Dispatch From The Future: “I love these poems.” No italics. Nothing in bold or caps. The only underlining is beneath the title of the quote giver's book. How unostentatious. How honest it seems. How humbly it rests on the cover, not trying to outadjective the work inside.
I don't like to talk to philosophy majors.
They have found the truth and the truth is
that there isn't one, so on Saturdays they
wear overalls and stare at their reflections
and try to guess whose childhood was worse,
but in the end they realize they all share
the same dream of having a reason
to join the Witness Protection Program,
which disappoints at least one person, who
thought his dream was so uniquely his.
(See paragraph two)
You and I have maybe the same past and almost definitely the same future. We will be sad at some point and the way we try and consume our depression will probably destroy us further.
If a robot is sad
a robot will make cookies shaped like velociraptors
and leave work early just to mail some to his
mom. If a robot is really sad he will draw hearts
and arrows and blood on every smooth surface.
If a robot is totally devastated he will go on an online dating
site and under “Who I'm looking for” write, “Someone
to teach me how to love.” Then the robot will stare
at this, wonder if it makes him seem like he just wants
sex, and write, “Someone to hurt me. I am a robot.”
Maybe this book isn't from the future but is, in fact, something you wrote in the past. You thought you loved it because it spoke only to you but every one of your friends who reads the book says it reminds them of the way you write and they love it. You hope this is a reflection of their love for you. The way you were. Not the way you will be. You think you called it Dispatch From The Future because Dispatch From The Past was too slant rimey. You think Leigh Stein is an obvious pen name for you.
Really, though you love this book. You love it even though it mentions living in New York. You love it because it mentions New York not the way a TV channel slathers its logo on the screen during the midst of your favorite program but the way a flight attendant mentions flight. It is not a surprise to you the way BROOKLYN. I LOVE BROOKLYN BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE I'M FROM. I MOVED TO BROOKLYN WITH MY FRIEND WHO THEN DIED IN BROOKLYN AND I'M GOING TO MENTION BROOKLYN AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE BECAUSE IT ALLOWS ME TO USE STREET NAMES AND LANDMARKS THAT MANY PEOPLE KNOW BECAUSE SO MANY PEOPLE WRITE ABOUT NEW YORK CITY, AND LANDMARKS ARE FOREVER EVEN THOUGH BROOKLYN IS CHANGING AND NOT JUST BECAUSE MY FRIEND IS DEAD BUT BECAUSE BROOKLYN IS LOVE AND I AM LOVE AND I AM BROOKLYN. BECAUSE I AM SLOWLY DYING ON THE EDGES THOUGH MY BROOKLYN HEART BEATS STRONG. Leigh Stein does not ever do this when talking about the city she and 8.4 million other people call Home Until The Next Rent Increase.
when I say I want to take off all my clothes
I don't mean what if we had sex. I mean listen
to the sublime: sun on my shoulders, God in my ear.
Dispatch from the future:
life is only too short if you are having a good time.
You leave the bookstore because there aren't any free chairs and there is someone new for the woman behind the counter. Someone who can teach her about religious texts. You only read The Old Testament for the cartoons. (see paragraph ten) Then you were in a restaurant that wasn't done being built yet. It was you and the builders and Leigh Stein's book. And maybe life wasn't too short but the day was, certainly. The book, though, was just the right size.
The first time, I started at the beginning, but there are a number of poems that include Pic-A-Path phrases such as "turn to page ###", and when I reached that phrase, I would turn to that page, read that poem to its completion, and then return back to the space in the original poem.
The second time, I read it from front to back, in order.
This time, I started with the epigraph:
"If you attempt to leave this planet, turn to page 77.
If you decide to take the time to consider other options, turn to page 50."
--Edward Packard, "Through The Black Hole"
I started on page 77, and THEN I read it like a pick-a-path book. Next time, I'll start on page 50. So far, no way of reading it has been better or worse than the other ways. This is truly one of my favorite poetry collections of all time.
******************************
Original Review:
If you're going to judge a book by a cover, start with the spine. Do you catch the title with your eye? Is the font a soft bunt that floats right to you, or did you have to hoof it all the way to the warning track?
If the book was a person and you'd started with the spine, the back cover is the next logical place to linger over. Is it covered with quotes from strangers? Does the bio mention the number of cats in the author's house or is it scarred with the adjective “unique” at a particularly unappealing vertebra?
A book is not a person so don't feel creepy about getting inside it before you even see the front cover. (See paragraph sixteen)
If you read this book
sequentially, bad things may happen to you , but only as bad
as the things that would have happened to you anyway.
If, however, you do not read this book sequentially you may
find that you are suddenly aboard a sunken pirate ship,
staring into the deep abyss, and wishing you had chosen
not to chase the manatee in your submarine after all. Do not
panic. If you end up in the wrong adventure just go back
three spaces and draw another card.
It doesn't take a manatee to make you happy. You hope. There's no manatee in this story. You can't find the pirate ship. Flip to the front with its robin egg blue color, with its robin shit clouds, and the title on what is maybe supposed to be a billboard or a restaurant marquee but what reminds you of the part of the cash register that displays the amount of money you owe, which is more than you imagined it would be. But you didn't choose this book, this book chose you. The way this book store chose you. How the woman behind the counter didn't ask if she could help you, she said “Welcome. I haven't seen you in here before. I see you checking out the poetry section. I don't know a lot about poetry, could you recommend something to me?” And when you explained that you were not from the area, and that's why he hadn't seen you, she did not ask where you were from, she asked what your favorite independent bookstore was. Leaving this store without a new book would be a crime against literature and kindness. And, lo did your eyes not fall like a clunky simile but rather floated in the direction of Leigh Stein's book.
Up in the corner of the book, the only quote for Dispatch From The Future: “I love these poems.” No italics. Nothing in bold or caps. The only underlining is beneath the title of the quote giver's book. How unostentatious. How honest it seems. How humbly it rests on the cover, not trying to outadjective the work inside.
I don't like to talk to philosophy majors.
They have found the truth and the truth is
that there isn't one, so on Saturdays they
wear overalls and stare at their reflections
and try to guess whose childhood was worse,
but in the end they realize they all share
the same dream of having a reason
to join the Witness Protection Program,
which disappoints at least one person, who
thought his dream was so uniquely his.
(See paragraph two)
You and I have maybe the same past and almost definitely the same future. We will be sad at some point and the way we try and consume our depression will probably destroy us further.
If a robot is sad
a robot will make cookies shaped like velociraptors
and leave work early just to mail some to his
mom. If a robot is really sad he will draw hearts
and arrows and blood on every smooth surface.
If a robot is totally devastated he will go on an online dating
site and under “Who I'm looking for” write, “Someone
to teach me how to love.” Then the robot will stare
at this, wonder if it makes him seem like he just wants
sex, and write, “Someone to hurt me. I am a robot.”
Maybe this book isn't from the future but is, in fact, something you wrote in the past. You thought you loved it because it spoke only to you but every one of your friends who reads the book says it reminds them of the way you write and they love it. You hope this is a reflection of their love for you. The way you were. Not the way you will be. You think you called it Dispatch From The Future because Dispatch From The Past was too slant rimey. You think Leigh Stein is an obvious pen name for you.
Really, though you love this book. You love it even though it mentions living in New York. You love it because it mentions New York not the way a TV channel slathers its logo on the screen during the midst of your favorite program but the way a flight attendant mentions flight. It is not a surprise to you the way BROOKLYN. I LOVE BROOKLYN BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE I'M FROM. I MOVED TO BROOKLYN WITH MY FRIEND WHO THEN DIED IN BROOKLYN AND I'M GOING TO MENTION BROOKLYN AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE BECAUSE IT ALLOWS ME TO USE STREET NAMES AND LANDMARKS THAT MANY PEOPLE KNOW BECAUSE SO MANY PEOPLE WRITE ABOUT NEW YORK CITY, AND LANDMARKS ARE FOREVER EVEN THOUGH BROOKLYN IS CHANGING AND NOT JUST BECAUSE MY FRIEND IS DEAD BUT BECAUSE BROOKLYN IS LOVE AND I AM LOVE AND I AM BROOKLYN. BECAUSE I AM SLOWLY DYING ON THE EDGES THOUGH MY BROOKLYN HEART BEATS STRONG. Leigh Stein does not ever do this when talking about the city she and 8.4 million other people call Home Until The Next Rent Increase.
when I say I want to take off all my clothes
I don't mean what if we had sex. I mean listen
to the sublime: sun on my shoulders, God in my ear.
Dispatch from the future:
life is only too short if you are having a good time.
You leave the bookstore because there aren't any free chairs and there is someone new for the woman behind the counter. Someone who can teach her about religious texts. You only read The Old Testament for the cartoons. (see paragraph ten) Then you were in a restaurant that wasn't done being built yet. It was you and the builders and Leigh Stein's book. And maybe life wasn't too short but the day was, certainly. The book, though, was just the right size.
Read
March 9, 2018Episode 22:
2. School has pretty much ruined the enjoyment of poetry for me for quite some time, but I’ve really been wanting to read some more lately. However, I have absolutely no idea where to start.
I think I could especially enjoy those that bring a bit of surrealism in, as well as those about love and relationships. I do realize that this is pretty broad but I hope that you might have some great diverse poetry collections that you might be able to recommend. Lots of bookish love!!
-Mia
Recommended by: Jenn
2. School has pretty much ruined the enjoyment of poetry for me for quite some time, but I’ve really been wanting to read some more lately. However, I have absolutely no idea where to start.
I think I could especially enjoy those that bring a bit of surrealism in, as well as those about love and relationships. I do realize that this is pretty broad but I hope that you might have some great diverse poetry collections that you might be able to recommend. Lots of bookish love!!
-Mia
Recommended by: Jenn
August 6, 2017
Really didn't enjoy this one. Of the entire collection there was only one poem in itself that I thought was decent, and there were a handful of lines scattered throughout that I thought were alright but for the most part I found these poems very underwhelming.
November 19, 2017
some little gems here and there but mostly.... nonsens
Read
January 3, 2020DNF. I couldn't get into it, the poems were too random.
May 23, 2021
A few of these poems were excellent, very funny, five stars. The rest were good but not hugely memorable, 3.5 stars. So overall 4 stars.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 14, 2022
Too dark for my liking, but the poem about Oregon Trail was laugh-out-loud.
August 28, 2023
It was very abstract poetry, and I just found it not engaging.
June 19, 2017
I wish I downloaded a sample before buying this book for $14
Well that's money I'm not getting back
Maybe I don't understand poetry
Or maybe this poetry book just sucks
Edit: thank God for kindle refunds
Well that's money I'm not getting back
Maybe I don't understand poetry
Or maybe this poetry book just sucks
Edit: thank God for kindle refunds
February 20, 2017
I feel a bit mixed. Her style is very mesmerizing, but the collection feels like it's all one tone. I get the idea of sticking to a theme, but at this level all of the poems seem to blur together. It encourages reading like sleepwalking.
October 12, 2020
Sometimes relatable. A few of the poems were great, and the rest were okay.
5/10
5/10
September 8, 2013
This should have been a book I loved: wacky narrative interrupted and thrown off course by more weird narratives, often patterned on received stories from pop culture, like for example that speeches of Ms Universe contestants or choose-your-own adventure plots, this didn't quite work for me.
I think, in the end, it was that the narrative that were spliced together never seemed quite compelling to me-- they were quick and witty, but not deeply invested with enough meaning to really engage me as a reader, more like directions than the journey itself. Not that the only things poems can do is telling diverting stories-- but the poems in this book didn't seem interested in much more than that: image, sonic devices, sentences and stanzas all seemed secondary to the range of short disruptive narratives Stein planted in these poems.
It didn't help, either, that all the poems were essentially the same poem, whatever form she put the poem into, and all had the same tone, a kind of manic bustle with a depressive undertone. Where's the sense of wonder, for example, or the straight contemplation, or an unencumbered mental flight or pure fantasia? In other books, I guess, because those modes weren't readily apparent here. I think, in a magazine where I read a couple of these poems, I'd really enjoy their wit and invention and energy. But in a book, the repeated effect was kind of deadening, at least on me.
I think, in the end, it was that the narrative that were spliced together never seemed quite compelling to me-- they were quick and witty, but not deeply invested with enough meaning to really engage me as a reader, more like directions than the journey itself. Not that the only things poems can do is telling diverting stories-- but the poems in this book didn't seem interested in much more than that: image, sonic devices, sentences and stanzas all seemed secondary to the range of short disruptive narratives Stein planted in these poems.
It didn't help, either, that all the poems were essentially the same poem, whatever form she put the poem into, and all had the same tone, a kind of manic bustle with a depressive undertone. Where's the sense of wonder, for example, or the straight contemplation, or an unencumbered mental flight or pure fantasia? In other books, I guess, because those modes weren't readily apparent here. I think, in a magazine where I read a couple of these poems, I'd really enjoy their wit and invention and energy. But in a book, the repeated effect was kind of deadening, at least on me.
July 19, 2015
I have a small writing desk next to my side of the bed that is next to my poetry bookshelf. The other morning I pulled this slim book of poetry from the shelf and began reading randomly. I liked it, quirky, disparte lines run together to create a distinct feeling. I got the book when I was a member of The Rumpus Poetry book club, a really great book-a-month- club that I wish I could still afford, it was/is such a treat to get currated books in the mail, especially poetry. I got Stein's book of fiction, published the same year as this book of poetry, from the library a few days ago, consumed it, and then came back to these poems. Suddenly it seemed that the young narrator of her novel had written these poems. Many of the poems had a small reference or line that was also in the novel. I'm not sure if the unreliableness of the narrator of the novel influenced me or if the homogenous tone of the poems underwhelmed me, in the end it was okay. I am interested to read the next book though. And I did enjoy the layered effect that reading both novel and poetry created where I feel I understand Stein's vernacular and point of view as a writer.
September 16, 2012
I received a copy of this book through the Good Reads program. I'm a tough grader, so three stars is good. Overall I enjoyed this book. The poems were evocative with wonderful imagery that made many of them haunting or nostalgic or both. There is also a fair amount of wry humor to keep things light. They are mostly what I'd call free verse, but with just enough structure to help them hold together (e.g. unrhymed couplets, meter and line length). I actually like formal poetry that is more highly structured, so the simple unrhymed lines got a little old for me (at least a whole book of them). And as another reviewer said, there were poems where it feels like Stein is still searching for her voice, perhaps because she is still quite young. I expect her work to improve and grow deeper with time.
July 31, 2015
The praise for this book has got to be an elaborate practical joke.
"I took my medication and looked at pictures
of people who were not in love with me. I deleted
their names from my cache, said hello to my cat
over the phone, took more medication. Days
passed."
The above is 100% what the entire book is like. It's a fair representation.
Paris Hilton. Kim Kardashian. Leigh Stein's poetry. All share the bond of no visible talent.
Quirky! Sparse! Pop culture! But nothing poetic here. With very few exceptions, all free verse published after Amy Lowell sounds like it was written by the same hack.
"I took my medication and looked at pictures
of people who were not in love with me. I deleted
their names from my cache, said hello to my cat
over the phone, took more medication. Days
passed."
The above is 100% what the entire book is like. It's a fair representation.
Paris Hilton. Kim Kardashian. Leigh Stein's poetry. All share the bond of no visible talent.
Quirky! Sparse! Pop culture! But nothing poetic here. With very few exceptions, all free verse published after Amy Lowell sounds like it was written by the same hack.
March 8, 2013
I'm usually not a huge fan of poetry, but because I really loved "The Fallback Plan", I was drawn to read some Leigh Stein's poetry, and I'm glad I did. It's clever, but it definitely doesn't take itself too seriously, and I actually enjoyed jumping through the pages, and found it easy to read one poem after another. (I'm also super excited because I found something Kelly Link-esque in Stein's writing, which is just yay).
February 27, 2019
Love the dreamy space my mind occupies while reading these poems. In some of them, I recognize images and scenes from movies (The Notebook, maybe Indiana Jones) and love how these details are braided with big existential questions and anxieties. I feel like I could read a poem by Leigh and recognize it just from her rhythms, the phrasings of the beats.
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