If you’ve been in the poetry biz for very long, you’ve probably already heard of Jon Tribble.

Perhaps you got your hands on a copy of Crab Orchard Review (where he serves as Managing Editor), or stopped by their table at AWP—in which case you probably noticed right away that Jon and his wife, acclaimed poet Allison Joseph, are two of the friendliest writers/editors you’ll ever meet.

You might also be familiar with Jon for his work as series editor of the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry, where he’s helped launch and further so many careers that he could aptly be described as Poetry’s Father Abraham.

Today, though, I’m pleased to shine a spotlight, some fireworks, and the headlights of every car I could find, borrow, or steal on Jon’s poetry—because when one finds poetry this good, it deserves nothing less.

And… this is the point where I usually become tongue-tied, because if this were a classroom, I’d put one of his poems on the overhead and scribble all over it until it resembled a very complicated football play, just so I could illustrate his complex use of scansion, alliteration, caesura, energy resulting from elevated diction contrasted with stark imagery (or the other way around), etc. But this isn’t a classroom, and the best way to enjoy Jon’s poetry is for me to just shut up and let you read it.


God of the Kitchen



Livers and Gizzards



Chicken Dance



Wings of Skin



Famous Hot Gravy