“I walk for hours through a meadow,/my pockets leaking bacon bits” – this is how Noah Falck sees Bill Clinton, and more importantly, how Noah Falck sees us seeing Bill Clinton. Celebrities are mirrors in which we watch ourselves watching them. These poems purify that experience, and in doing so, clarify the beauty and sadness of fame – how much we want to matter, and that mattering now is largely tied up in fame. God, I fear, needs a press agent. The book’s Berryman epigraph – Peoples bore me – seems a head fake here — people do not bore Noah Falck. What surprises me most is how much he makes me feel for these people I feel nothing for. I mean you, Lindsay Lohan, and you, Tom Cruise. Here, you are resurrected…as human.”
—Bob Hicok, author of This Clumsy Living

“Falck’s poems enliven the celebrity machine by infusing it with quirky humor through a re-orientation of context.”
—Joshua Ware, author of Homage to Homage to Homage to Creeley