Prairie Architecture


Product Details

$15.95  $14.83
Golden Antelope Press
Publish Date
5.5 X 8.5 X 0.18 inches | 0.25 pounds

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About the Author

Monica Barron writes poetry and nonfiction and has been a development editor for Feminist Teacher magazine and nonfiction selection editor for wordpeace: a digital social justice writing project. She helped launch Truman State University Press' Contemporary Nonfiction Book Series and served on the TSU Press Advisory Board. She is a member of the English faculty at Truman State University. Born in Michigan, she has never quite gotten the Great Lakes out of her system.


--Jamie D'Agostino, author of Nude With Anything; Slur Oeuvre; Weathermanic; and This

"The news was in the black glyphs on the supple birches' trunks," our poet notes in one typical
moment of vision so sharp it's serrated. For Barron, all of it's news, all of it's breaking, and her
dispatches from the field provide us blanket coverage. The prairie, the meadow, great lakes,
rivers, Sonora, Canada, Cuba, you name it, these poems have worked that terrain, patiently
undertaking the work of the imagination. And of memory--or as one astonishing poem sings its
final wisdom: "I know: we lose some, / we lose some." This is a book that tallies its losses and
its love of the world with equal force. One of many designs out of the mind of this architect is a
series of imagined postcards that inhabit one place but reach back to another, so each poem's a
bridge closing distances--sometimes great, sometimes between neighbors, or between here and
the kitchen. Barron's the perfect poet to write these: armed with the photographer's eye, the
traveller's restlessness, and the poet's imagined scrawl on the back of the card. She's out there,
missing us, taking in the world she wants to share.
I just love these poems.

--Lori Desrosiers, author of The Philosopher's Daughter, Sometimes I Hear the Clock Speak
and Keeping Planes in the Air (Salmon Poetry)

In Monica Barron's book of poetry, Prairie Architecture, there is a river that sends you back to
where you came from. There are bridges, postcard poems about many places, and a series of
linked sonnets. There is a tribute to Alice Neel, a poem about why we need ponds, a commentary
on a father's death and another on hunters. I particularly enjoyed the poems that felt more
personal, like "Polar Vortex", "Lana Turner All Day" and "Midsummer Songs," which concludes
with this stanza:
I would have guessed tonight
would be clear: clouds the color
of rhubarb, clean wind crossing
the meadow. But winds have a way
of changing. The leaves turn
their silver undersides to me,
my grandmother's favorite sign
of rain. I know: we lose some,

we lose some.