Praise for An Elephant's Memory of Blizzards:
"If you’re flipping through a Neil de la Flor book for the first time, don’t let the poet’s child-like sense of adventure fool you. Between each line of wordplay and imaginative leapfrogging, there’s a grown up’s sense of seriousness, a dead-seriousness about the individual’s relationship to nature and to society, to religion and to politics, and, not least of all, about the poet’s relationship to love and universe itself—as when, in this book, de la Flor writes, “Each light is a star glowing for relief from darkness.” —Steven Cordova, author of The Long Distance
“In An Elephant’s Memory of Blizzards, Neil de la Flor takes on the inefficacy of gendered and hetero-sexualized expectations in the modern age. As the poem ‘Shiva’ points out, ‘Somewhere between male and female, the soul lives unstirred by the memory of childhood // ....Somewhere between Terminal 2 and Terminal 3, the soul lives in a million humming humans who will pass through O’Hare in the third person.’ Inspired in part by music and popular culture, de la Flor employs a brilliant aesthetic sprawl that teems with anaphora and bright imagery; yet within that, there is a rigorous (and ultimately elegiac) interrogation of reality. Pronouns are not to be trusted. ‘You’ and ‘I’ can be as close as a spliced consciousness, yet the ‘we’ is not a harmonious plural. Personalities divide. Alternative memories emerge. ‘Love is a code for lust,’ one speaker claims, but these poems never settle for hormones and juices. This collection is fierce.” —Sandra Beasley, author of I Was the Jukebox
At once wise, witty, and fearless, Neil de la Flor’s poems are a bloody valentine to language, and, thus, he could be considered the millennial child of Oscar Wilde and Gertrude Stein. But he also sings in his own, completely unique key, a harmony that blends myth and cosmic considerations with soulful pop-arias. This collection is infused with wild beasts and water, deities and city boulevards, lush primary colors, and the haunting mod-rococo of Florence and the Machine. In “What the Water Gave Me,” de la Flor writes, “Mercy tramples across the face of God with her flowing mess of red hair/as God tramples across the longtitudinal earth that trembles beneath our sneakers.” The poem, much like this book, casts a hungry net into the seen and unseen, then draws the haul into the light of the page. If it all sounds excessive and mystifying—it is, and gloriously so. —Emma Trelles, author of Tropicalia
ISBN-13: 978-0-9882356-0-1 (paperback) $15.00
On Almost Dorothy, winner of the 2009 Marsh Hawk Press Poetry Prize:
Praise from Forrest Gander, Contest Judge: "With a scenery-chewing imagination, deft linguistic cuts, slippery line breaks and disjointed or dehiscent narrative elements, Neil de la Flor abandons genre rules to explore gender roles, religion, domestic relations, science and history. The poems of Almost Dorothy take place in spectacular leaps away from conventional patterns of development. They suggest a kind of super symmetry that links saints, elementary particles, two boys dressed for Halloween as Dorothy, and a butch Brazilian barman. Revisionary and anachronistic in its referencing and formally restless with its lyrics, lists, prose poems, definitions, and dramatic dialogues, Almost Dorothy is the red-headed stepchild of Antony (without the Johnsons) and Jean Cocteau. Infusing poetry with theater, Neil de la Flor is at once bitingly original, funny, and uncompromising."
"The title of Neil de la Flor’s debut collection comes from a story that takes place on a certain Halloween in a certain year of a certain speaker’s childhood. Therefore, this engaging little treat is both a trick and a book. It’s a treat for hybridists, cross (genre) dressers, and tin(ted) men alike. It’s tricky in the way we (scarecrows and homos) are suddenly reading a trick play within a trick poem within a kind-of, yes, trick story about lions and bears and Greeks and Toto and Joey—and about a lot of other characters who prance around like tricksters but are nevertheless bound between the covers of this extraordinary book by Neil de la Flor, the wizard, the wise-ass, the boy in the 'too sizes too big green pumps,' also known as Almost Dorothy. —Maureen Seaton
Neil de la Flor’s literary work has appeared most recently in Court Green, No Tell Motel, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Sentence, and Barrow Street. He is the co-author of Facial Geometry, (NeO Pepper Press) a chapbook of triads written with collaborator poets Maureen Seaton and Kristine Snodgrass. He teaches at Miami Dade College and lives in Miami, FL.
ISBN-13: 978-0-9841177-3-4 $15.00