These Pages Once Were Skin

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Laurie Price is a poet we poets should have been clamoring for these last three decades. Her work operates in the here and now with the tools of up there and way deep. She is a high-grade lyric philosopher, metallic and transcendent. The sound of her verse is barbed wire and angelic wind. If you know her art work you know what mysteries she uncovers in the public disorder, magical crafts, and guerilla graffiti of Mexico. I find those images alchemically refined in her poetry. Her work is like Mina Loy's, a surprise to my word-jaded reading.