Ugly Duckling Presse

A Plate of Chicken
A Plate of Chicken

Matthew Rohrer

illustrated by Paul Killebrew

Poetry | $15 $12
Buy"a masterpiece of subtlety and frailty"

About the Author

Matthew Rohrer
Matthew Rohrer is the author of several books, including Surrounded By Friends, (Wave Books, 2015) and A Plate of Chicken (Ugly Duckling Presse, 2009). The Others, a novel in verse, is forthcoming from Wave Books in 2017. A Green Light (Verse Press, 2004) was shortlisted for the Griffin International Poetry Prize. He lives in Brooklyn, New York and teaches in the creative writing program at NYU.

Other Contributors

Paul Killebrew was born and raised in Nashville, Tennessee, where he lives now that he has graduated from law school at NYU. He is author of the chapbook Forget Rita (Poetry Society of America 2003).

Advance Praise

What is thinking, and where do thoughts come from? Rohrer, in a state of startling tranquillity, looks within and without for answers and delivers an astounding array of possibilities, sometimes reaching into the ephemeral ('I wake indistinguishable from the washed-out morning') and sometimes happily insular ('I feel like I really am my thoughts'). Either way, the act of connecting—to one's own mind, to the world outside of the mind and to both simultaneously—is the supreme thrust of the book, and it is impossible to resist participating in this nonchalant adventure in metaphysical perception. —Publishers Weekly
A Plate of Chicken is a masterpiece of subtlety and frailty, a series of glimpses, thought-fragments, coping devices, and simple declarative sentences. 'My function,' Rohrer writes, 'is to be in love between two people who hate each other,' and to this end he serves the gods of sentence and line simultaneously. This gathering of seven-line stanzas opens a door to a blanket of white noise, like Brian Eno's Music for Airports, and never lets up.—Lewis Warsh
'Take off your pants, Creepy, and be my love.' Domesticity and poetry are at the heart of these outlandish and tender poems, all seven lines long (or is it one long poem made up of seven line stanzas?), in which collisions are continually occurring, as words and lines of thought bump up against, and rub, each other. Rohrer’s poems are blunt, erotic, romantic, declarative, down to earth, outrageous, funny, sad, and better than any other plate of chicken placed before you in this life. Sit down and enjoy a sumptuous no-frills meal that doesn’t try to fill you with iceberg lettuce.—John Yau