reviews in print:
Texts of reviews that have appeared in the Denver Quarterly, American Poet, Interim, Xantippe, The Literary Review, Pleiades, Rhino, Meridian, and The Journal will be available here soon.
Becca Klaver, GutCult
Susan Settlemyre Williams, Blackbird
Scott Wilkerson, Word For/Word
Simon DeDeo, Rhubarb is Susan
Sina Queyras, Lemon Hound
Olivia Cronk, Bookslut
Erica Wright, ForeWord Magazine
Pamela Hart, Galatea Resurrects
Juliet Patterson, Drunken Boat
Gina Myers, Galatea Resurrects (previously published in The Can)
Jeannine Hall Gailey, The Pedastal
Charles Alexander, chaxblog
Thomas Basbøll, The Pangrammaticon (part 2 here)
Matthew Thorburn, Now Then: The Year of 100 Books
rob mclennan, rob mclennan's blog
Jennifer Bartlett, saintelizabethstreet
Jack Kimball, Pantaloons
Matt Henriksen, hyacinth losers
A beautiful dwelling of ideas. case sensitive suggests that there need be no divide between the associative connections of poetry and the extended thinking of the essay. This is a book full of luminous footnotes, details, and attentive readings. case sensitive strings together a series of moments to create something resonate, large, and inclusive.
- Juliana Spahr
A life lived at the peripheries is partially cut open into tiny chapters which are then tugged off-camera between erasure and restoration, as an unexplained house awaits its occupant on the opposite coast. This book collects that distance through which the driver-writer hears her own randomness speak, en route, with explicit acuity and fragmented instruction, as if narrated via a brain-fever collage of loving/warning mentors--M. Curie, Modersohn-Becker and L. Niedecker, for a start. Entering and underscoring these fugal compressions is the "lower limit" of an on-going mystery story vernacularized through her car's CD speakers. The result is a poem intrigue of the highest order. Greenstreet has made a brilliant beginning with this first book.
- Kathleen Fraser
Kate Greenstreet's case sensitive unfolds the "begin asking" that is possibility's scaffolding, poetry's too. Resisting the order of story that "has to leave out nearly everything," she enacts, line by line, narrative's capacity for synesthesia, for alerting one neuron by touching utterly another, for multiplicity. Greenstreet notices that totality ends, and starts, and its claim is thus false. "So much we say to one another isn't true--it's just the way it comes out, so we need to be forgiving." In the "spontaneous luminosity" of her materials--just words--Greenstreet frays a way through, to where all that stands between need and forgiveness is being's quiet insistence, simply this: "to be."
- Erin Moure
home readings poems/audio case sensitive contact