Steven Smith is partner in a china replacement business and has collected Spode and Copeland ceramics for many years. He resides in Salem, Oregon.
Steven Ross Smiths Emanations: fluttertongue 6 Sounds like Futurism
/ looks like Charades. Its meant to provoke second-sight and
attention to echoes, to what shimmers and whispers in the
sensuality of sense. Herein is, oh Poet, a pitch of
try-to-understand before dark drops. Need a guide? Look up Roy Miki
and/or Samuel Beckett. Youre on to something! -- George Elliott
Clarke, Torontos Poet Laureate, 2002 winner of the Governor
Generals Literary Award for Poetry for Execution Poems
A superb technician of rhythm, rhyme and resonance, Smith lays
everything on the table for an earth under siege from high finance,
rampant human pollution, and wars of the supermarkets. His lines
spill and flow like winding rivers or lapping waves laced with
erotically sensuous word-scents that take us to what flutters just
within and without our grasp. Aroused, we devour their prayers,
their scoffs, their love songs, swept along in their amazing
quilted music. -- Meredith Quartermain, author of Ruperts Land
Steven Ross Smiths Emanations: fluttertongue 6 both sets its own
landing field and touches down, in poetry that bucks and soars.
Even the hyphens dart about in this surprise-fest, this portrait of
the poet as renewer and renewed. -- Gerald Hill, author of
Hillsdale Book
Breath bubbles up, a whisper echoes, a nothingness, mineral,
oesophageal, a throated speechless gasp. These emanations sound
from the body, pause on the page but briefly, beg to be breath
again. -- JR Carpenter, author of Words the Dog Knows
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