Burger King of the Dead - by John Surowiecki (Paperback)
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<p/><br></br><p><b> Book Synopsis </b></p></br></br><p>The poems in this collection capture moments of glory and tragedy in ordinary places: a Grants Department Store, a Vegas motel, and cities such as Yonkers and Bridgeport, where both conmen and the common man (or woman) mingle with superheroes, artists, musicians, and the gods of Greek mythology. The speaker in one poem recalls when he was "a boy of steel" who waited "for catastrophe // as if it were a bus," and who "undid the past by running away from it // at unimaginable speeds." In turns surprising, humorous, and tender, every poem in this collection stands as evidence of Surowiecki's warm heart and a sharp intellect. </p><p/><br></br><p><b> Review Quotes </b></p></br></br><br><p>Early in John Surowiecki's Burger King of the Dead</em>, the narrator of "I am a Comic Book" describes growing up as a boy of steel and being in love with every woman on earth. Other narrators adore birds, gardening, and eccentrics-like the itinerate preacher Lorenzo Dow and the mental patient who helps a family grow the biggest Big Boy tomatoes. Mobsters also memorize Milton, Zeus writes emails from Florida, and Roy Lichtenstein puts in a cameo appearance. Burger King of the Dead</em> is by turns enchanting and elegiac, but also wickedly witty and unfailingly musical; Surowiecki tosses off gorgeous lines so casually you'd think they were a dime a dozen. This book will break your heart, if you let it.</p><p>-Katherine E. Young, author of Woman Drinking Absinthe</em> and Day of the Border Guards</em></p><p><br></p><p>John Surowiecki is a writer of tremendous range and deep intelligence...These honed poems are filled with imaginative leaps and precisely phrased utterances about our shared humanity that will consistently nourish and surprise you. Surowiecki knows his birds, his flowers, his mythology. He also knows the essential questions pressing against the human heart, which demands, in these troubled times, "no more mysteries and no more lies." </p><p>-Daniel Donaghy, author of Somerset; </em>editor of Here: a poetic journal</em></p><p><br></p><p>In this tender, often humorous, collection, John Surowiecki mythologizes the immigrant maid who drowns in a Vegas motel pool ("you swim, you drink her"), the enchantress who is given away by the "sweet/sticky smell"of the Grants' pet department, the veteran with eyes the "blue-white/of fat-free milk." No one is safe from the tragedy wreaked or the glory earned by and from the gods. Surowiecki's eye for quirky detail and his outsized heart make every line a surprise.</p><p>- Pegi Deitz Shea, two-time winner of the Connecticut Book Award</p><p><br></p><p>John Surowiecki's poetry is brazen in its audacity, swirling comic and profound elements together without ever losing its humanity. This is Pablo Picasso catching a red eye to Guernica, and stopping at a 7-Eleven for a bean burrito to go.</p><p>-David Morse, novelist, essayist, poet</p><br>
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