Please consider ordering I Remember: Chicago Veterans of War, an anthology I edited that weaves together the memories of fifty veterans of World War II, Korea, Vietnam, Bosnia, Iraq, and Afghanistan. Throughout the book, each veteran speaks in a series of “I remember” statements labeled by a number, not a name. This anonymous structure foregrounds the similarities of all wars. The effect is of one veteran speaking of the shock and scale of every modern war. The book was published by Big Shoulders Books, DePaul University’s press–its mission is to feature Chicago communities that might not otherwise have a voice. The press gives their books away for free. I Remember is available from Big Shoulders Books.
Résumé, my most recent book of poetry, is available from Mayapple Press. These poems see life as a series of jobs: pimp’s assistant, lost pet psychic, petting tent attendant, target changer, aviary security, etc. Any job is both unspeakably ordinary and mercilessly strange—stock broker or pimp’s assistant, the same. And here, slipped between pages of work, you find a series of “Jobless” poems—a recurring state of being. Also in the book, poems about the jobs of vital relatives—in my family, mangy is not a bad word—all of us with perfectly strong legs, all chasers with nowhere to run. In the end, the work of poetry becomes a refuge in Résumé—a stillness at the end of the day.
I’ve published two other books of poems: The Sky Over Walgreens (2007) and Epiphany School (2009). My poems have appeared in such publications as Poetry, New York Times, Verse, Nimrod,and Black Clock. I’ve edited four anthologies, including Brute Neighbors: Urban Nature Poetry, Prose & Photography. I teach in the English Department at DePaul University.
“Green is a super lucid poet: comic, clear eyed, and smart. He’s not afraid, in these poems, to be seen in the company of every kind of love, and to acknowledge love’s shadows.” – Amy Gerstler
“Green’s language is unhurried, epistolary, his impulse the guy’s next to us at the Cubs’ game who snaps our picture when a foul ball lands in our lap or knocks us unconscious.” – Maureen Seaton