Adrianne Kalfopoulou won the 2000 EDDA Women's Chapbook Contest from the Sarasota Poetry Theatre Press for her chapbook, Fig. She has had poems appear in Phoebe, Nimrod, Pavement Saw, 13th Moon, and award-winning poems in the Atlanta Review and Sing Heavenly Muse! She is Associate Professor of English Literature at the Unveristy of LaVerne's Athens campus where she teaches American literature and creative writing. She has published a book of criticism, The Untidy House: a Discussion of the American Dream in the Culture's Female Discourses (Edwin Mellen, 2000) and articles on American literature and gender in various scholarly journals.

About Wild Greens:

"It is a difficult thing to write simply and eloquently with quiet and intense passion in ways that are unflinchingly personal but also fold the reader into the depths of history and myth. This is partly what Adrianne Kalfopoulou’s poems do for me. They are also celebrations reminding me how words can perform acts of affirmation and joy no matter what griefs or complex experiences they contain. These poems attain the beauty of ritual."
—T. Alan Broughton

"These are poems composed at the crossroads of exhilaration, exhaustion, eros and resilience, and they are as melodic as they are devastating. There is essential Greek history written here, personal and ancient, cut into on linen-covered tables and consumed like wine as dark as the sea: 'a blue you could drink.'"
—Rebecca Byrkit, author of zealand

"Unlike the sense of distortion found in poetic voices, such as Whitman, or Elytis, where the fingers of nature are used to splay the salt of praise across the entire land, Kalfopoulou has steadier hands, and allows her sparser metonymic seasoning to mix and simmer. Wild Greens even dares to bend the tall stalks of myth, as in 'To Penelope,' which retells the story using another 'I,' reflective of a history in which men 'never got the story right.' In this sensualist rendering of contemporary Greek consciousness, even an outsider can look in 'the fogged pane so much breath has stained.'"
—David Baratier