Best Poetry Book 2010, Runner Up, Englewood Review of Books
A collection of poems about Barbie dolls, theology, quantum physics, and the Southwest.
Words About Barbies at Communion
“Marcus Goodyear’s poems are portable, easily carried in the mind, tightly compressed and deceptively simple, like a capacious tent folded into a package you can tuck in your backpack.”
—John Wilson, Editor at Books & Culture
“A new zip-lock bag for Christian poetry holding gustiness and bravado.”
—Diane Glancy, author of The Reason for Crows
“From Barbies to tea bags and credit cards, from broken pipes to communion wafers and mowing dead grass, Marcus Goodyear moves us through our world. His juxtapositions of the conventionally sacred and profane reveal to us the falsness of our conventions. Where the vision is large, all is sacred.”
—John Leax, author of Tabloid News
“Marcus Goodyear’s poems reveal a playful mind at work on the stuff of the world. Picking up something ordinary, he tilts it to show its wild friendship with mystery. He reveals Jesus hitching a ride in the back of a truck. He juxtaposes Higgs particles with a carnival. Even his credit card appears miraculous, talking, as it does, to ‘institutions of numbers.'”
—Jeanne Murray Walker, author of New Tracks, Night Falling