Mulberry is Dan Beachy-Quicks dazzling third collection of poetry, and in it he further solidifies his place as one of our most important experimentalyet entirely lyricalpoets. The work of a still-rising star, here the experiment is almost see and hear the poet as silkworm, weaving meditations on nature, art, history, philosophy, and the self. Here is a layered, intricately voiced and utterly assured poet who, with magnifying glass in one hand and telescope in the other, shows us the way to something new and delightful with every reading.
Some beautiful poetry- music is the strong point. Just don't read the foreword by him. It's so cheesy that your eyes will be stuck rolled up and you won't be able to read the book.
I guess I am trying to come across Mulberry. The sound is the sound whether. It is in waves or multiples. The streaming turning over a piece of foam. Unsteady on the subject of seed toward the night and all: toward aspects of writing via holes and hues. I'll give it another look as I am in love with both his aspect and those of mulberry trees.
Lovely (little) meditation, weaving a few ideas back and forth. Too happy for me in general, you know, too un-kink, but I admire the effort, and I enjoyed the read.