O Holy Insurgency
With equal parts wit and wisdom, Mary Biddinger'sO Holy Insurgencydoes what all good poetry does: she entertains while demonstrating both social and personal awareness; she rouses, comforts, and frightens the reader (often in the same poem) in the best way possible. Sometimes surreal, always poignant, Biddinger's lyricism transcends the whitewash of contemporary verse and gives us something both familiar and new. --Michael Meyerhofer, author ofDamnatio MemoriaeandBlue Collar Eulogies                 Think O for open and O for eye, a wandering mouth in search of surprises. The heroine of Mary Biddinger's brilliant new collection subs rapid-fire syntax for Bond girl bullets: "Of course we didn't have / guns. We were too fast to need them." In this eerie prairie town, box fans reproduce in bushes and toaster ovens face eviction from countertops. Biddinger lets objects highlight the wreckage of Capitalist excess: "It wasn't a paper flower they left / at the crash site, but somebody's / underpants, dimpled with rain." What's holy is passion, our heroine's thorny femininity and devout hedonism.O Holy Insurgencydocuments Biddinger's irreverent compassion and edgy sensuality: "you / invented me with your mouth. / We were cut from the same cloth/of awesomeness. Our glory / could stop wars. The azaleas shut / their blooms when you opened / me." --Carol Guess, author ofTinderbox LawnandDoll Studies: Forensics