Party Knife

Partyknife

Dan Magers

Partyknife is a debut book of angry, funny, sad poems from the banal seeming yet hyper-mysterious Sink Review and Immaculate Disciples Press founder Dan Magers. 

The poems range from gleeful haywire to broken despair. Stoner wisdom and vulnerable transcendence alternate throughout as the speaker drinks vitality from life and longs to hold onto his identity and a band called Partyknife, a band he may or may never have been a part of. Partyknife is not a memoir, but stands as the last will and testament of the poet’s 20s living in Brooklyn, New York.

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What People Are Saying

Thurston Moore

Magers scribes as if poet-ghost adrift thru dressing rooms backstage taking notes, capturing the moment in all its lovely eros and happiness and cause for alarm. Writing poems like these is just as good as starting a band when poems like songs flood the brain. I like your smile.

Sarah Manguso

“I wanted to be high, but now I’m trapped in my life.” Frustrated by the limits of his world, Partyknife’s youthful speaker wears a mask of aloofness that incompletely conceals his yearning. His poems strain to hold his exuberance, and his studied detachment belies his racing heart. “Everything I hated has become my life now. By which I mean how happy I am.” These poems are angry, insistent, and wildly in love with life.

Blake Butler

Partyknife is fucking awesome, like a manual to a new kind of LCD machine you aren’t allowed to actually turn on yet; the book is I think really an opening of something. Just thought, “the future.”

Inside the Book

Category:
Poetry
Binding:
Perfect Bound 92pp
Dimensions
7" x 7"
Publication Date:
June 2012
ISBN:
9780982617779

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Reviews

Blake Butler

Vice

Publisher's Weekly

Publisher's Weekly

Matthew Zingg

The Rumpus

Russel Swensen

Southeast Review

Farrah Field

Adultish

From the Book

	  			

Meaning contains a glancing similarity 

to what is happening to me.

  

I love my liberal friends. I am a liberal.

  

The Marlboro Man in his prime
given free cigarettes, so why not smoke them?

  

Just keep making your clown music for retards. 

Your hard-earned success flowers only jealousy.

  

Today, I implicated three friends in reveries 

of fanciful rage. You’re the friend that gets me 

seventy-five percent.

  

We got addicted to snorting 9/11 dust
and listened to the feel good hits of Generation X. 

Total Summer Vibe

	  			

When you said Pratt party, I heard frat party.

  

The punk kid in the punk house laughs at the paint he wipes on my new shirt, 

but I am an insane god.

  

My intern broke up with her boyfriend for me. 

I did not ask for this. When she spoke
I saw your face.

  

Misheard lyrics of my favorite songs inextricably linked 

to my love and that time.

  

Yeah, I love it the best.

  
Fetishize the moment into a lifetime. 

  

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