Joshua Young

From the blurb I wrote, printed on the back of the book:

A remarkable and delightful full-length debut, Joshua Young's WHEN THE WOLVES QUIT is a poetic Lynchian noir unlike any poetry before. Interrogating a familiar, provincial American space where 'secrets are damp, / caught in the space between the throat and the front teeth,' Young entices us to step onto the stage itself. ENTER STAGE LEFT: someone disappears. ENTER STAGE RIGHT: see the missing through a keyhole—or worse, through the slats of your neighbor's nearly closed blinds. Brilliantly suppressing distinctions between poetry, drama, and fiction, here is a frightening polyphony of voices, where all become victims of their own crimes—where 'suffering moves and breathes.' The smallest details are even more disturbing, such as an out of tune piano plinking over the debris of other people's lives in half-abandoned rooms. When told in the book this is dream, we think nightmare. Most worryingly, Young manages to implicate an audience who is much too titillated by the oblique violence happening offstage. Just try to remove yourself from that association, reader.… (altro)