Travis Cebula

A man wanders through Paris. A man wanders through Eliot. Eliot wanders through Paris. Paris wanders through the man. And, not surprisingly, it all comes out as a love letter. Though addressed to a missing person, these poems have no absence about them at all. Instead, built of the fine detail of daily life, they exude a vivid presence that coalesces into a richly nuanced sense of place, of place-as-lived. And it’s a good life. And an utterly delightful book. —Cole Swensen

Nobody looks in the newspaper to see what's on TV anymore. For that kind of news, we have to go to poems—specifically, Travis Cebula's pitch-perfect One Year in a Paper Cinema, whose shapely, lyrico-epigrammatic interfaces with a year's worth of TV listings in The Denver Post pull open the gauzy curtain separating ""art"" and ""life"" to reveal something at once fresh and recycled, mysteriously stochastic and predatorily pre-programmed. Almost as soon as this book was finished, the Post stopped printing this section. Thank goodness for the celerity of visionary poets! —K. Silem Mohammad

Herein lies the poet's confidence in forgotten "tones revealed in full light."  Cebula's poetry, like the city itself is resilient, iridescent, and every time a little different. —Elizabeth Robinson,