Christine Hamm’s Echo Park takes you by the hand and leads you into a vast subterranean passion play that moves through houses and theaters and parks and alleys all the while smiling all the while promising that the over-ripe orange you smell will recede and your hair will stop burning and you can find your way out of the root cellar even though the light is busted and the door is bolted. These poems are a delicious dreamy basket of puppies with a dank surprise underneath—not the pony every little girl longs for but a portal into a whole wide weirdly and care(fully) imagined world. —Rebecca Loudon, author of Cadaver Dogs
Christine gives an overview of the book:
We sprawl, belly-down
next to the blue, frying.
Our pinkies touch, do not
touch. We are hipless,
titless, thin as the curled
rinds of tangerines littering
the stairs. Our pink-spangled
bikinis sag, loose as empty
burlap sacks. Our sun-whitened
hair spreads across the stones,
green as new corn, fragrant
as beach trash, as your mother's
Christine Hamm is a PhD candidate in English Literature at Drew University. She won the MiPoesias First Annual Chapbook Competition with her manuscript, Children Having Trouble with Meat. Her poetry has been published in The Adirondack Review, Pebble Lake Review, Lodestar...