by Chris Toll
Poetry
5.5 x 8.25" | 72 pages
$12 USA
Official release date: June 28, 2011
Praise for the book:
“The Word is my shepherd. / I shall be wanted.” Chris Toll has the trust to know. There are days I think trust is 90% of a poet, and if anyone among us can prove this it’s Chris Toll. “Why is fusion in confusion? / Why isn’t dance in coincidence?” He puts the world to you like you’ve just started seeing. Hearing. Poems that wake us are the very lightning rods to enter storms with. I do believe Hell could be driven from the heart with Chris Toll’s amazing new book.
CAConrad, author of The Book of Frank
Chris Toll has looked within words and entities to discover almost everything is weeping. Emily Dickinson’s breaking code in the Pentagon, Toll’s heart is aching and full, and meanwhile these poems are tenderly repossessing the ineffable and the commonplace. It is a grand and lovely thing to read this book.
Heather Christle, author of The Trees The Trees
The Disinformation Phase is conspiracy theory in poetic practice. A middle-aged David Bowie as Nikola Tesla is still outdated compared to the retro-futurism of Chris Toll. This future ain’t the way you remembered it; yet, from a past where cold fusion is always thirty years away, Toll’s book opens a bowl of hope in your hands, and – a blast of zoominess, enough to power a city. His is poetry of propulsion: for/towards a sonic age, every sentence goes off like a rocket, objects act, sonnets are psionic, civilization collapses while shafts of light break through the earth’s crust. What’s more, “The Disinformation Phase,” as a phase, suggests the next phase: if suns go out, manufacture new suns (through chaos magic, as in “Paradox is my toolshed”), manufacture new solar systems. Cosmic!
Magus Magnus, author of Heraclitean Pride
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