Today's poem is "Drift"
from Prairie Fever

Steel Toe Books

Mary Biddinger’s poems have appeared in a variety of magazines including American Literary Review, Crazyhorse, Harpur Palate, The Iowa Review, Notre Dame Review, and Ploughshares. She is an Associate Editor of the journal RHINO, and an Assistant Professor at the University of Akron, where she serves on the faculty of the NEOMFA: Northeast Ohio Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing program.

About Prairie Fever:

"Mary Biddinger is a beguiling shape-shifter, one who suffuses her writing with electricity and alacrity of language. I marvel at the elegant architecture and scope of each poem. The veritable menagerie of animals that visit these pages simply enchants: zebras, rhinos, marabou, goldfish, bears, and banana spiders. These poems bite and scare, ravish and delight. Prairie Fever showcases a beautiful mind, a beautiful debut."
—Aimee Nezhukumatathil

"In this stunning debut book you will enter a landscape where girls dirt-bike uptown in braids and gloss, a woman’s gray tabby curves into your hip, an Ohio airfield becomes the hundred eyes of a peacock feather, and carnival tail lights are like “cherries pickled in gin and salt.” Biddinger’s distinctive voice is both mystically beautiful and disarmingly sensual. The grit and suffering of rural America are so beautifully rendered, the profane becomes sacred, the ordinary extraordinary."
—Nin Andrews

"Sex, death, those liminal moments when innocence hovers at the edge of experience: all the great themes cross these pages, but not as narrative. Instead, Biddinger arrests them in her delicate gatherings of details. Flypaper, nasturtiums, and dangerous boys at the edge of town are the touchstones of her imagination. Think of Prairie Fever as a Sally Mann photograph in deftly chiseled verses. Or think of the poems as out-takes from a small-town gothic movie Jim Jarmusch should have made. It’s as if Biddinger re-spliced them into a dreamy collage starring a cross between To Kill a Mockingbird’s Scout Finch and Nabokov’s Lolita. You get the idea: delicate, bruised, a little wayward."
—Robert Archambeau

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