Green Migraine
<div><p>"Reading Michael [Dickman] is like stepping out of an overheated apartment building to be met, unexpectedly, by an exhilaratingly chill gust of wind."—<I>The New Yorker</I></P><p>"These are lithe, seemingly effortless poems, poems whose strange affective power remains even after several readings."—<I>The Believer</I></P><p></I></P><p>"My master plan is happiness," writes Michael Dickman in his wonderfully strange third book, <I>Green Migraine</I>. Here, imagination and reality swirl in the juxtaposition between beauty and violence in the natural world. Drawing inspiration from the verdant poetry of John Clare, Dickman uses hyper-real, dreamlike images to encapsulate, illustrate, and illuminate how we access internal and external landscapes. The result is nothing short of a fantastic, modern-day fairy tale.</p><p><B>From "Where We Live":</B></P><p><I>I used to live<br>in a mother now I live<BR>in a sunflower</I></P><p><I>Blinded by the silverware</I></P><p><I>Blinded by the refrigerator</I></P><p><I>I sit on a sidewalk<BR>in the sunflower and its yellow<br>downpour…</I></P><p><B>Michael Dickman </B>is the winner of the 2010 James Laughlin Award from the Academy of American Poets for his second collection, <I>Flies</I>. His poems are regularly published in the <I>New Yorker</I>. He was born and raised in Portland, Oregon, and teaches poetry at Princeton University.<BR></div>