“A master of the lyric, a visionary never far from the complicated, wondrous relations between world and imagination, body and mind, Gail Wronsky is one of our most indispensable poets. Her Under the Capsized Boat We Fly: New and Selected Poems brings together a body of work that is at once fierce, sensual and startling: ‘I lie like a sunbeam/amazed/at the edge of the page.’ The scale, the point of view Wronsky inhabits—part oracle, part brilliant best friend—is unlike any poetry I know. Anarchy, domesticity, death, love, and the delicate, almost unnoticed invisibilities of the quotidian reign, never far from revolution. An epigrammatic wisdom arrives by often standing on its head: an uncanny truth that is so second-guessed and interrogated one can’t help but trust in Muriel Ruykeyser’s prediction: ‘If a woman said the truth about her life, the world would split open.’ At last, as Etta James would sing it. As spiky and uncompromising as the work of Leonora Carrington, these poems carry a rare, mystical alchemy. And as Wronsky writes, ‘I am the woman filming it.’”

 —Gillian Conoley

“Any other poet with Gail Wronsky’s gift for sheer gorgeousness—for the sensuous image, for shapeliness, for the ever-unfolding ever-mobile vocal line—would call it a day. But Wronsky’s intellect is of a larger order:  restless, irreverent, wittily attuned to the force-fields of cultural fashion and to the depths those fashions bespeak.” 

—Linda Gregerson

“Gail Wronsky is in full control of her awesome (meant in the biblical/spiritual sense, of course) poetry, and although old Virgil lays the groundwork for these poems, there is an Ashbery-esque aspect to their profuse assertions and winding paths.”

—Pedestal Magazine