Weeds grow where they want to; not where they're told to grow...

erbacce-press

Constance Stadler

The process of manifestation: thoughts, both the singular and myriad, following the expected path of burgeon, exiting into the state of poetry—is multilayered and evident, in this, Constance Stadler’s collection Sublunary Curse. Another form of evidence exists within these poems, declaring Ms. Stadler a master poet: her musicality, contained in all these wonderful poems, asks to be listened to, and in an appreciative style of reciprocity, rewards the reader. Even the white space (her signature) located within these writings adds to the structure of music, augmenting imagery that can only be defined as original, and importantly, absent of cliché. Her being a metaphysician is unmistakable, and releases a palpable reflection, as she philosophizes about her personal and often universal themes of torture, conversation, and even the simple “Evening Walk” becomes an existential display of poetic sensibility. To read these poems is to understand a philosophical, musical, and intelligent mind, one whose “rebirth” into the society of poetry makes those fortunate enough to read her works feel gifted, and, overwhelmingly appreciative.- Felino Soriano

Connie Stadler's outstanding new chapbook for erbacce-press is intensely verbally ambiguous and compelling and also theoretically complex. A sultry and tropical pile of topical tropes that encompasses subject matter ranging from the crime against morality that is clitoridectomy, combined, by the way, with an inevitable sense of the observer's complicity, to the crime against ethics that is paternal neglect, the absence of the patriarch. The poetic heritage is traceable right from Sharon Olds back to Poe, and even further. Exquisitely crafted poems that are an anthropology and anatomy of postmodern humanity. - David McLean

Sublunary Curse contains the greatest poetry I have read by any poet during the past decade. Constance Stadler is certain to be acknowledged among the finest Poets of our age in the not-to-distant future. - Antony Hitchin

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