Leslie Mcilory's new poetry collection, Slag.

Mistakes happen ...

The print version of my interview with poet Leslie Mcilroy called her knew book Skag, not Slag. Fortunately, online versions are easily correctible and a quick phone call remedied the error.

Sorry, Les.

I've known Les since the late 90s, and I think she's one of the most intensely personal poets working today.   Most poets tend to take cues from the world around them, at least to some degree. But Les insists her poems are hewed from personal experience. In a lesser talent, that would create a great big solipsistic warning sign: LARGE EGO AHEAD, ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.

But somehow -- and I can't figure out how she does it -- Les avoids this trap. Her poems are accessible, universal, even if they sometimes make you cringe because of their brutal honesty. Her poems that deal with sexual, physical and mental abuse are not easy to read. Nor should they be. But part of Les' genius is you are compelled to keep reading even as she makes you uncomfortable.


Here's the article: