Digging a Hole to the Moon traverses the haunting and beautiful story of a generation struggling to survive the realities of the new recession. This collection chronicles the seemingly despair-filled lives of dreamers who try to find spirituality in the haunted mountains, deserts, and crumbling cities of California – Atheist faith healers, despairing angels, and tired immortals brush shoulders with hopeful teachers, politely-depressed undertakers, and Byronic, suburban street racers as they all search for some impossible transcendence.
In the tradition of B.H. Fairchild’s Early Occult Memory Systems of the Lower Midwest, this collection uses overlapping imagery, evolving symbols, and recurring characters to craft and explore a deep, resonant depiction of its time and place.
From Spout Hill Press
Books Purchased through this link or through Spout Hill Press will have a portion of the proceeds donated to the literacy non-profit SGVLF, Inc, 501(c)3
Praise for Digging a Hole to the Moon:
In Scott Creley’s deceptively genial poetics, there is a switchblade hidden up his sleeve, and he has a wit so sharp it should make the air bleed. We find the 21st century bard probing the American emptiness like a tongue into the dark gap between teeth. These poems hurt as they entertain, and they tell us, “that if we let the scar tissue collect, / we might eventually become stronger. /All we need is to be willing to bleed.”
— Tony Barnstone, author of Beast in the Apartment & Tongues of War
Honest, passionate, imaginative, and well-made, the poems in Scott Creley’s impressive first collection Digging a Hole to the Moon speak eloquently from the heart to the heart. Your heart, and your mind, will be glad you heard.
—Charles Harper Webb, author of Shadow Ball
“Imagine Bowie’s Major Tom on a ride with Eliot’s J. Alfred Prufrock: the collision of black sky and dry earth; the excavation of quotidian spaces and bodies lost or alien; the elegiac murmur of wounded ghosts. Creley is a writer who attends to the broken teeth, the imagined death shriek of a bat, the weight of a casket on his shoulder, the refrain of a child’s beloved storybook. Read and be transported beyond the radio static, beyond Rancho Mirage, beyond the secret apartment. Before “goodnight,” you will encounter many satellites.”
—Jo Scott-Coe, author of Teacher at Point Blank