Graham Foust is the author of several collections of poetry, including A Mouth in California (Flood Editions, 2009) and To Anacreon in Heaven and Other Poems (Flood Editions, April 2013). He teaches at the University of Denver. With Samuel Frederick, he has translated three volumes of poetry by Ernst Meister, including In Time’s Rift(Wave Books, 2012), Wallless Space(forthcoming from Wave Books, 2014), and Of Entirety Say the Sentence (forthcoming from Wave Books, 2015).
Foust’s poems are fragmentary, hushed, and stripped down, they radiate lushness. —Sandra Lim, Boston Review
Foust has achieved a wide reputation in and beyond experimental poetry circles for his clipped, breathless poems, often no longer than one or two haiku, but packing an intimate punch that belies their length...Commenting on contemporary American life without explicitly describing it, Foust remains a poet to watch. —Publishers Weekly
[S]hort-short poems, mash-ups of two kinds of knowingness (literary and musical) set against a contemporary exurban landscape suffused with loneliness, violence and erotic need, and never enough money. The borrowings are almost beside the point; Foust doesn't so much appropriate sources as embed his poems in the cultural subsoil that nourished him. —Ange Mlinko, The Nation
Nearly as intriguing as Foust’s deductions are his questions, capable of spinning a poem into being...These many rhetorics create poems that are not lonely creations but uneasy patchworks of spaces from which to think. —Jason Stumpf, Jacket
Foust’s poems proceed by contradiction, as he takes a subject, ponders it, detours from it, cloisters it, disregards it, interrogates it, imagines and imagines further—yet keeps the reader in the company of flesh and blood, heart and soul. —John Skoyles, Ploughshares
Foust’s poems often present just this sort of conundrum – at one level a suburban still-life, on another a tale of depravity just below the surface – the economy with which all this is accomplished can be startling, and is why I feel no hesitation in praising this work to the skies. —Ron Silliman
Poetry translation is such tricky and unappreciated work—“translation is impossible,” Graham Foust and Samuel Frederik declare in their introduction to a volume of Ernst Meister's work in which they've performed that exact miracle—that it is sometimes a wonder to me that anyone pursues it [at] all, especially if the original text poses particularly challenging linguistic, visual, vernacular, wordplay and/or semiotic issues, as experimental poetry often does. —Arielle Greenberg, American Poetry Review