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I’ve always loved Bill Evans’ poems and the work in Modern Adventures is both timeless and hilarious. The loving regard for all of our weakness and the muscular rhythms of these poems knock me out every time. Ever hip, ever hopeful, Bill Evans is the poet we’ve been waiting for.
David St. John
Here’s a nice thing. Bill Evans walked into the dark night of the soul for you, caught a wave there and emerged with a poetic voice that is a present for anyone who would like to know what it is like to be alive. Or maybe he was locked in a Mexican standoff with desire and neither one budged, so they just started singing. Part teen idol, part pirate, part philosopher, as if Rumi were a carnival barker whose promises turned out to be true. Adjectives? Seductive, moving, funny, transgressive, wonder-full and achingly human come to mind. Bill’s poetry is not just craft; it is a human voice that knows things, and I want to hear them.
Peter Catapano, editor of the New York Times series The Stone and Anxiety.
These are the poems of an urban man and a little sad a touch bitter but it’s raining out tonight and from where I am I notice Bill often likes to break into a little dance. I want to say that these are moral poems because in the hands of Bill Evans morality means feeling and whether he’s listing the parts of a a “little pilgrim” (“we’re so/ proud of you”) or snapping a joke what chiefly is holding his poetic together is heart which makes his work dangerous and rare in this disparate and deeply informed moment in time. We need his poems because he feels and so I kept reading and wanting more. These are the heartbeats of an ancient man looking at history from left to right and now staring us right in the eye. We are not alone.
Eileen Myles, author of Inferno (a poet’s novel).
Bill Evans was born in Forty Fort, Pennsylvania and lives in New York City.