by Jen Tynes
$16.00 | August 2013
Each augury is moving picture and rodeo. They say that female centaurs do not appear until later, but they are wrong. Each season is scarred. She has other names: Here, Grace, Double, There. Each motion is fuel and air. She has little left for pity. Each I is us. She knows that there is big sky and there is big sky. Each horse is hearse. Time twitches under her feet. Each performance is combustible. She has other names: Fugitive, You, Pronoun, Guts. She whistles a song you can’t quite place. Each hearse is house, and each house is body, and each body is language.
Part rodeo queen, part Mad Max, Jen Tynes’ Trick Rider somersaults through a trompe l’oeil Wild West landscape made of body glitter and furs. Walking a fine line between performance and necessity, these poems juju a body out of giddy, vertiginous vernacular.Tynes’ speaker holds court, dazzles, and menaces: each insistently female body in her caravan is a threat, a trick, a state of emergency waiting to descend. If you are afraid, you’re right. Call the trick MUSCLE DANCING or TWO HEADED OUT OF FULL DARKNESS. If you ever want to pass for living again, read this book.
About the Author
Jen Tynes is the founding editor of horse less press. She is the author of two full-length books, The End of Rude Handles (Red Morning Press) and Heron/Girlfriend (Coconut Books). She is also the author or co-author of about a dozen chapbooks. She teaches and writes in Western Michigan.