MORE WRECK MORE WRECK
Winner of the 2013 Cargill First Book Poetry Prize
Released November, 2014 from Coconut Books
Buy from SPD
Like Frank O’Hara, Gobble wears work-shirts to the opera and his feet are bare—these poems aren’t just one thing, or another, they are instead stuffed with so much energy that they are spilling all over the pages. Like industrious, tiny humans, they seep everywhere, sprawling across memories and dreams, carrying with them scars and shreds of real hope. Even better, More Wreck More Wreck is bubbling with the absolutely kick ass beauty of a great imagination let loose.
- Peter Davis
The insatiable, insightful poems in MORE WRECK MORE WRECK are full of honest devotion to this messed-up world. With a keen eye for the particulars that speak the whole—church bulletins and abortions, tofu turkey and American flag boxer shorts, broken down bald eagles and business lunches—Tyler Gobble sweeps us up in a flood of daily paradises lost and found. Beneath their fast moving surfaces, these are serious poems compelled by crosscurrents of hope and fear, sadness and joy, confusion and clarity. It’s not like one’s chest explodes suddenly with tongues. Except here in Gobble’s work it’s just like that, and every one of them has something to say.
- Lisa Olstein
Tyler Gobble’s More Wreck More Wreck pulls me out of my everyday sadness, reminds me to embrace the electric wonder of childhood. Stop asking how I make money, Gobble screams, and start being hypnotized by lightning again! These poems ask for permission and possibility, hopefulness’s redecoration in a purely American landscape of community calendars, rollercoasters, pizza parties, front porches, politics, pet dogs, and tank tops. These poems live in “the carnival of what is,” and they shout from the rooftops: live! live!
- Alexis Orgera
MORE WRECK MORE WRECK feels like a road trip across america that ended too soon. we read about so many lives that finish and more that start. we see porches of homes we’ve never stepped foot in, and we wave to poets like mike young and nick sturm and matthew zapruder through the car window as we drive by. we see peaks and streams and the yellowest fires. we see things up close and blurry, like something underwater.
- Beyza Ozer at probably crying review
A lot of the poems in More Wreck More Wreck have really tasty lines (This place hurts like a dream/where no one finds the missing baby) that get the ol’ brain motors humming, and then there are lines (You can fly your kite in the grape jelly wind) which make me want to vomit because I hate myself and cannot fully appreciate their giddy, innocent brilliance.
- Brian Alan Ellis at That Lit Site
More Wreck More Wreck feels like the rush of adrenaline when you’re on the losing team of tug-of-war, exhilarating, yet overwhelming. It feels like not being able to stop your car when the roads are too icy, but safely find your rest before sliding into a busy intersection, terrified and relieved. It feels like coming home after a year away to your mother’s home-cooked meal, welcoming and loving.
There's also the ruralness of the collection. Gobble's from Indiana, and the pastoral world of the book is decidedly part of Indiana. In "Broken Plate" he writes, "I watch / NASCAR in a Hooters T-shirt." In "Escape Tunnel Vision," a "train is out of town once its hollering / lets you go back to bed." More Wreck More Wreck captures a world that's both complex and familiar, a landscape that feels authentically Midwestern. Gobble writes in "Legitimate Bustle" something that sums up the collection well: "Are you ready for this party?"
- Justin Carter at Mid American Review
MORE WRECK MORE WRECK is a challenge to readers to abandon their traditional ways of reading and analyzing. Gobble invokes a sense of sheer wonder as he explores the joy found in simplicities, like a rooster in a flowerbed. He also frames the sheer confusion and complexity of our world with his use of vivacious and strange combinations of images, never afraid to be absurd. Gobble’s poetry isn’t meant to be dissected line by line; it’s meant to be swallowed whole.
- Levi Todd at his blog
Sample Poems: Sixth Finch, PANK, H_NGM_N