“Powell has now turned the corner from promising new poet
into established power. [Useless
Landscape] condenses his obsessions into poems clearer and more compact
than ever, some scathing and others comedic, some based on life stories and
others built on puns. . . . Powell, with his range of form and line, his dark
but vivid humor, and his commitment to Romantic traditions, is set apart. . . .
This book will belong on many lists of the year’s best.”—Publishers
Weekly,
starred review
I
n D. A. Powell’s fifth book of poetry, the rollicking
line he has made his signature becomes the taut, more discursive means to
describing beauty, singing a dirge, directing an ironic smile, or questioning
who in any given setting is the instructor and who is the pupil. This is a book
that explores the darker side of divisions and developments, which shows how
the interstitial spaces of boonies, backstage, bathhouse, or bar are locations
of desire. With Powell’s witty banter, emotional resolve, and powerful
lyricism, this collection demonstrates his exhilarating range.
“With his typical wry eroticism, an eagle eye for the
places where men converge, and a compass that points always to desire, poet D.
A. Powell leads us on a tour through a Useless
Landscape, or A Guide for Boys, from gay bars to bathhouses and into the
backwoods.”—Vanity Fair, “Hot Type”
“In this, his fifth and most elegant and accessible book,
[Powell] watches himself aging, his disease making off with his body, his
energy and his hope—but not his humor: ‘You face your wrinkles, daily, in the
mirror. / But the wrinkles are so slimming, they rather flatter.’ He entreats
us, by book’s end, to ‘triumph over death with me.’ It’s an invitation—and a
poet—you won’t be able to resist.”
—Craig Morgan Teicher, NPR.org
“Poems by Powell are the Apple products of the literary
world: sleek, urbane, well-designed marvels. . . . Powell is as good a technician as anyone in the
business, and his latest book, both smart and accessible, will have award
panels queuing up to sing its praises.”—Library Journal