The poems in Dan Leach’s debut collection present lyrical portraits of dying (if not already dead) suburban neighborhoods in South Carolina. Stalled-out construction sites, abandoned shopping malls, and builder grade houses that seem haunted before they’re even sold—these are the doomed spaces that populate Leach’s work. Stray Latitudes investigates the spiritual and geographical crises of the New South, pitting the individual need for identity against the recent swell of nationalism and the ongoing creep of capitalism. Like the vagrant creature for which the book is named, these are poems that scratch and claw in their search for a place to call home.
The TRP Southern Poetry Breakthrough South Carolina
Dan Leach's STRAY LATITUDES is a powerhouse collection that looks clear-eyed at the past and present and still manages to express hope for the future. Leach can do more than nearly anyone I know in only a few short lines. His poem "Two Car Garage" employs that singular space and only 3 short lines of text to cover a lifetime of material: "At night they were caves: / some father (not yours) working / alone by fire." His longer poems though are equally great, particularly as he touches of subjects like faith and fatherhood. As editor of the literary journal Cutleaf, I had the pleasure to publish a few of these poems prior to the release of this full-length collection. Looking back, I feel even more grateful for that opportunity.
Dan Leach is a liar. But that is what you love about him. He's just a smooth talker trying to get one over on you, trying to get away with something. If you listen to him long enough, you'll just let him. His poems have sweaty pits, grass turned the color of bone, and a crisis of faith so profound he is looking for answers anywhere they can find them. Help him out would you?