Northern Irishman Foley is a wonder. One of the most linguistically inventive poets of his country, he is still entirely approachable by those whose daily poetry reading seldom to never resorts to, say, John Ashbery. With a long line and a breakneck pace, Foley presents the speedy modern world in all its ambivalent glory. His occasional vulgarity is not only inoffensive but, propelled by mournful trochees, poignant: "Did Dante ever put the wood to Beatrice?" asks a student, to which the weary poet replies, "Dante scarcely met Beatrice, much less put the wood." The chance to laugh aloud while simultaneously gasping in appreciation is rare, but Foley affords it, particularly in his poems about America, such as when he describes "Not just meals, toilet bowls bigger . . and more full of water. Every cup runneth over / and is filled again free. If I had time for sex, my ejaculate would be kingsize. . . . Here more of everything except silence." Although not widely known in America, Foley deserves to be.
Patricia MonaghanCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
Review
'Few poets alive are up to this sort of impertinence.' Douglas Dunn, Encounter 'Pungent, witty, perceptive ... like Larkin, only sharper, funnier and more cynical.' Anthony Cronin, The Irish Times 'Foley's poems cackle and crackle with violent energy, although at its very best his language caresses as it mocks.' Ian Sansom 'a remarkable writer, serious without being po-faced, making poetry ... that can discuss the comic and trivial things central to us in a way that's neither pretentious nor patronising' Robert Johnstone, Fortnight 'Let me lay it on the line and say with simple sincerity: Foley is fun.' Robert Greacen, Irish Press