Fare

Details:

Den­nis Maha­gin lives in Wash­ing­ton state. He writes poems while lis­ten­ing to a mix­tape of Fugazi tracks and sea shanties sung by Euro­pean and South Amer­i­can soc­cer crowds. He has twice been caught cry­ing while watch­ing To Sir With Love. He thinks Face­book just may be the Matrix. Den­nis is a pan­han­dler who begs no quar­ter. His chap­book FARE will be pub­lished 12÷9÷11.

Blurbs:

Den­nis Maha­gin is a shape-shifter of a poet. He's as likely to tele­port the reader into the back seat of a cab next to a sex worker as to eaves­drop on Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath rais­ing hyper-verbal swords over a Sun­day morn­ing cross­word. A pro­tean tal­ent, Maha­gin waves his North­west­ern flag in the Port­land poems, and notably, a tour de force love let­ter to Ken Kesey through the prism of a clas­sic Paul Simon song. When a poet plays the tour guide – as this one does – the reader’s trust is key, even if the facts are impro­vised. If any of this is made up, I don’t care; it makes me believe again in the power and glory of the lyric impulse, with­out hav­ing to root around in the past.

–klip­schutz, author of Twi­light of the Male Ego

Fare is a dar­ing col­lec­tion of sex­u­ally trans­gres­sive poems whose speak­ers, famous and not, are frank in their want, even when they don't know what they want.

- Kyle Minor, author of In the Devil's Territory