From Publishers Weekly
Poetry activist and co-editor of Aloud: Voices from the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, Holman seeks simultaneously to reconstrue traditional definitions of poetry and to broaden its audience. This collection, an ample grab-bag of poems Holman wrote (and performed) in this decade and the last, testifies to the raw power and irreverent humor of spoken-word poetry but also exemplifies its unevenness and often arbitrary attentions. Many pieces can scarcely, in any standard sense, be called poetry; in its entirety, "My Shirt" reads, "I like to put it on/ My arms get long that way." This is, however, precisely Holman's point?that the confines of poetry are wider than generally thought and that the definition of poetry matters less than the relationship between the poem and the poet (and, ultimately, the audience). This view is underscored in Holman's endnotes, which tellingly are often more engaging than much of the poetry. This is a collection not everyone will like, but it is bound to interest anyone curious about trends in contemporary poetry.
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Holman's mission is to liberate poetry from the clutches of the academics and the highbrows. Coeditor of
Aloud: Voices from the Nuyorican Poets Cafe, Holman brings poetry to the people on network TV talk shows and is currently directing a PBS program titled
The United States of Poetry. In between, he oversees poetry slams and writes everything from silly little ditties to earthy love lyrics, funny yet pretty odes to nature in homage to classic Chinese verse, and, best of all, rapping, ranting, and howlingly funny commentary on our habits of compromise and consumption, futility and denial. "The world is changing," Holman tells us, "but we're not." Smart, sharp, and fast, Holman runs cliches, advertising babble, and other tired remarks through the centrifuge of his liberal, fun-loving, outrageous, sexy, secretly very literary, and compassionate mind, then churns out poetry that makes us laugh, groan, and (that most dangerous of activities) think.
Donna Seaman