Jim Daniels is the author of seventeen books of poetry. Daniels is also the author of numerous books of short stories, screenplays, and the editor of a number of anthologies. His poem "Factory Love" is displayed on the roof of a racecar, and two of his poems will be going to the moon soon. His poems have been featured on "Prairie Home Companion," Garrison Keillor's "Writter's Almanac," in Billy Collins' Poetry 180 anthologies, and Ted Kooser's "American Life in Poetry" series. A native of Detroit, Daniels is a graduate of Alma College and Bowling Green State University. He is the Thomas Stockham University Professor of English at Carnegie Mellon University.

Other poems by Jim Daniels in Verse Daily:
September 20, 2013:   "Poetica No Apologia Arty Kumbaya" "I am not a minister's son or a former pro boxer..."
May 26, 2011:   "David Bowie Esperanto" "A flash of metal trash in a vacant lot...."
May 18, 2011:   "Flight Log" "The prop plane tilts a wing..."
August 4, 2005:   "Historical Accuracy "The way she hummed made me want..."

Books by Jim Daniels:

Other poems on the web by Jim Daniels:
Three poems
Two poems
Three poems
"Wheels"
Two poems
"Factory Love"
Four poems
Two poems
"Prodigal Son Returns to Warren, Michigan"
"Past My Bedtime Suite"
"Biopsy"
Two poems
Three poems
Three poems
Three poems

Jim Daniels According to Wikipedia.

About Street Calligraphy:

"In Street Calligraphy, Jim Daniels acknowledges grief, and sets his feet on the path to another beauty. It is the beauty of tough beginnings in American cities, the urban ars poetica of challenges written in tar and concrete, where children learn to negotiate fear and cultivate hope. The real and the lyrical are the systolic and diastolic of the poet's heart. He speaks both to humanity and Detroit as he describes the city with "...its odd magic, how you could both stay in one place and move...' This is an honest and well-honed collection that will bring light to the lives it celebrates, our own."
—Afaa M. Weaver

"In Street Calligraphy, Jim Daniels continues to enchant and transport us across state-lines while rooting us in tragic heart lessons and the triumphs of love. These are moving, unflinching poems--brutal and brave in their pulse to assert that even after a world where 'We drew lines with chalk / and truth with tar, / We lit our hair on fire / to cover the smell,'--there comes a beautiful reassembling of what it means to have people who sing you home."
—Aimee Nezhukumatathil