The following is an excerpt from the Capital Comment Blog's Washington Read's review of Randall Horton's new book The Lingua Franca of Ninth Street.
Toss aside your notions of poets swooning over starlight on windswept hillsides. The props in Randall Horton’s poems are razor wire, cigarette butts, and cinder blocks, the haze of weed smoke, the stripes of memory. His new collection provides a haunting and memorable tour of alleyway DC, a place where leaves falling to littered sidewalks cry out “dear mercy.” A broken place where words are the only splint.
Randall read at Sunday Kind of Love in October and he'll be back to read again at the Split This Rock Poetry Festival in March.