Contents


 

 

 

Book Fair
 

 

 



Night Traveler. M.J. Iuppa. Foothills Publishing: 2003.  PO Box 68
Kanona
, NY 148. . ISBN:  0-941053-15-6

Night Traveler is an 80 page paperback, hand-sewn, with flat spine - $14.00 plus $1.25 Shipping and Handling ($1.75 in Canada; $3.25 other countries) for each address sent to.

Link to Foothills Publishing

To order through mail send to:

FootHills Publishing
PO Box 68
Kanona
, NY 14856

 


M.J. Iuppa lives in Hamlin, NY, near the shores of Lake Ontario. She is the Writer-in-Residence at St. John Fisher College, Rochester, NY.
 

|
Night Traveler
is a fresh dance of imagination and reality, demonstrating again that neither is whole without the other. These poems are exquisite in their delicacy, like a butterfly balanced on the lip of a wineglass. A gifted descendent of Emily Dickinson, and with an equally sturdy sense of irony, M.J. Iuppa makes her lines crackle with honesty, insight and lyric verve. For all the richness and variety, there's not a wasted word.  Each poem contains surprises that bring us back to our world and ourselves.  Each offers a clarification of our vivid senses, our complicated hearts.

Stan Sanvel Rubin, Director,  Rainier Writing Workshop
   Low Residency MFA Program
   Past director,  SUNY Brockport Writer
s Forum

 

In Night Traveler, M.J. Iuppa looks at how we negotiate the entanglements of responsibility and desire.  Season by season, human time is folded into the larger trajectory of the universe.  "I remember seeing / from both sides"-the method of these imaginative, mercurial poems is juxtaposition; the effect is double exposure.  "Grief is milkweed," Iuppa states, and the images compound: an aging father, a lone traffic signal, fields of green corn, the sound of moving water, snow in the orchard, the spider's sinister silken web, two silver balloons on the back of a bicyclist "on the road built to go nowhere," a toppled tree and the shadow it has fallen into, a woman's dream of finding her way home, all become something we, too, must learn to touch and then reluctantly release.                                       

Judith Kitchen, Essayist, novelist, and critic.

 

 

 


top of page

 

 

 

Copyright © 2006-2009 Sketchbook and Poetrywriting.org  All rights reserved