Friends,

My newest book PARK SONGS: A POEM/PLAY was published early in September 2012. To learn more about the book, go to the Exterminating Angel Press page for PARK SONGSIf you want to buy it as an ebook, the ISBN is: 978-1-935259-17-6
I hope you enjoy PARK SONGS: A POEM/PLAY.

***

WHAT CRITICS ARE SAYING:

Park Songs opens up the intersections of poetry and performance  . . . the plainness of the language is deceptive, [this] rhythmic and vernacular play [is] surprisingly evocative.”

RAIN  TAXI, Spring 2013
Lynette Reini-Grindell

for the complete review go to: http://www.raintaxi.com/online/2013spring/budbill.php

***

Best known for clear, sweet poems, [Budbill] is also a playwright, and
his new work is first and last, as he says, ‘raw material that could be a
play’: an array of dialogues among the vagrants, pedestrians, passers-
by, and hard-luck cases of an urban park. . . . In language that recalls
the 1930s, the guys and the couple of ladies around the park debate
how to be happy, how to get by with less, and how to make poems
that feel true.

PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
October 22, 2012

for the complete review go to: http://www.publishersweekly.com/

***

Budbill’s latest collection, Park Songs, demonstrat[es] that he is above
all a poet of place . . . [and of] the power of place to mark us, hold
us, and bind us to one another . . . The language here is so familiar
and conversational, its simplicity detains the reader, inviting us to
consider the poetry of everyday speech. . . He ingeniously borrows the
authority of the playwright to get away with speaking in a grittier and
more guttural register. . . .

Abby Paige
THE BAKERY
December 11, 2012

for the complete review go to: http://www.thebakerypoetry.com/
submissions/

***

Budbill captures the essence of human communication – the
misunderstandings and connections, hurts and expectations.

Deb Baker
CONCORD MONITOR
Concord, New Hampshire

September 9, 2012

***

David Budbill is a poet and playwright known for his accessibility and
sense of playful humor. . . . The soliloquies and verbal interactions,
presented in the course of one day [in this urban park], provide insight
into the variety of personalities at work and force readers to reflect on
how much we can know—and learn—through our discussions. Also at
issue is how much can be misunderstood.

FOREWORD
Jennifer Fandell
September 2012

for the complete review go to: https://www.forewordreviews.com/
reviews/park-songs/

***

“[An] ultra-American twist on Beckettian terseness . . . Park Songs
is full of idiomatic vernacular and candid, imperfect syntax, which
contribute to a down-to-earth plainspokenness. These seem like
people we can connect with, and it’s refreshing (as Budbill’s work
generally is) to be offered regular ol’ simple beauty in place of
incomprehensible, postmodern mumbo-jumbo.”

Keenan Walsh
SEVEN DAYS
October 17, 2012

for the complete review go to: http://www.7dvt.com/2012walk-park

***

[PARK SONGS is a] beautiful, tragic-funny book. . . David Budbill’s
writing is not just art, it’s a philosophical call to arms for readers
to wake up to the world, to go ahead and risk feeling both the pain
and the pleasure of being awake. Park Songs is an entertaining read
and also one to make you think. It stayed with me and I can feel it
connecting with other things I’ve read, helping me live with more
heart, helping me notice things.

Deb Baker
BOOKCONSCIOUS
August 31, 2012

***

for an interview with David Budbill conducted by with Marissa Bell
Toffoli

go to: http://wordswithwriters.com/2012/10/07/david-budbill/

Words With Writers, October 7, 2012

 

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Friends,

As promised,  here’s the second batch of responses to my blog of July 23, STRANGERS IN A STRANGE PAST.

I don’t know where Kristine Johnson Ingram lives. I wish I did

Kristine Johnson Ingram  We have seen the changes in the children in our classrooms as well: teaching in Vermont is a whole different ballgame than it was in the 70’s and 80’s. I took 6th graders to a farm for conservation day in June and they actually asked if the bulls gave milk: a far cry from teaching in the 70’s when basketball practice was at 7pm so the kids could get home and milk and do chores first…

Janet LeBeau Hill lives in Chicago and on or near Deer Isle, Maine

Janet LeBeau Hill I think a lot of the areas here in coastal Maine still have that old feel to them. Of course the contrasts are visible between places like Stonington with it lobstermen, quarrymen, craftsmen and artists and The ever-genteel Castine with its 1700’s Georgian homes, yacht club and country club. While we’ve been up here I’ve been to galleries, concerts, art studios, farms, hymn sings, historical museums, the tiny E.B. White library, community dinners, steel drums on the green, farmers’ markets….the stuff residents of small communities do together. I’ve spoken with several small business owners about the challenges of relocating to places like Brooklin that has 982 winter residents. I hate to have to return to real life hustle and bustle of my life in Chicago with its have/have-nots culture. I think people up here have it all.

Patrick Wood lives somewhere in Rhode Island. I wish I knew where

Patrick Wood Well put! I see the same stuff here in R.I. It’s not the same place as it was when I got here 25 or so years ago. Except there are still plenty of starving artists. Affordable housing for artists here is a 900 sq. ft. Condo for $200,000. And the rich kid got a grant to do it.

Bruce Farr, lives in Ludlow, Vermont.

Bruce Farr Always thought provoking, David. It’s given me pause to consider my own migration here five years ago, and the reasons for it. I certainly wasn’t laboring under the illusion that I was moving back to the Vermont I became fascinated with in the late 1960s, when, in college in western Mass., I would make frequent trips northward across the border. I then was seeking exposure to the sort of people and way of living that Helen and Scott Nearing had so enthusiastically described in their little bible, “Living the Good Life.”

But my illusion five years ago was to remove myself and my wife to a place that–while no longer pristinely “old Vermont,”–was at least still a refuge of sorts against the onslaught of unchecked development and unbridled acquisitiveness. It was, as I determined, a last bastion against encroaching mindlessness. That illusion, although a bit chipped and cracked at the edges, still sustains me.

More this coming Monday, maybe, or maybe not. I’m going to take some time off one of these days.

Sincerely, David

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