Shelly Taylor is the author of Black-Eyed Heifer (Tarpaulin Sky Press) and Dirt City Lions (Horse Less Press), as well as two poetry chapbooks, Peaches the Yes-Girl (Portable Press of Yo-Yo Labs) & Land Wide to Get a Hold Lost In (Dancing Girl Press).
Born in southern Georgia, she currently resides in Tucson, Arizona.
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Winner of the Elizabeth P. Braddock Prize, Shelly Taylor's Lions, Remonstrance is now out from Coconut Books. Taylor is the author of Black-Eyed Heifer, from Tarpaulin Sky Press, as well as Dirt City Lions (Horse Less Press). She is co-editing Hick Poetics, an anthology of rural poetries, with poet Abraham Smith which will be released in the next year.
Yes, their most recent issue features new work from TSky author Shelly Taylor. But that's not the only reason to read the issue. There is also a conversation with Dorothea Lasky, among a dozen other things. Prior issues include work by TSky writers and peeps Heather Christle, Patrick Culliton, George Kalamaras, Karla Kelsey, Becca Klaver, Nate Pritts, and Brandon Shimoda.
At TriQuarterly, Dane Hamann reviews Shelly Taylor's *Black-Eyed Heifer* (Tarpaulin Sky Press, 2010): "Shelly Taylor’s debut effort, Black-Eyed Heifer, is a mosaic of form and language, childhood and adulthood, the American South, horses, gravel roads, and light. It is a riptide pulling its readers out into the deep, powerful currents of nostalgia. It is unrelenting...."
At Prick of the Spindle, Eric Weinstein reviews Shelly Taylor's *Black-Eyed Heifer* (Tarpaulin Sky Press, 2010): "A marvelously hybridized space in contemporary American poetry."
At Trickhouse, Kristen Nelson interviews Shelly Taylor, author of *Black-Eyed Heifer*, from Tarpaulin Sky Press: "The regular downsweep of reading a poem textured by the rotating horizontal universe that also feeds meaning into the whole—density, double meaning, and texture. I think I got my way of understanding this from Robert Creeley...."
At the Sonora Review, Jake Levine reviews Shelly Taylor's *Black-Eyed Heifer*: "Black-Eyed Heifer inhabits the possibilities of language, indigenous in its diction, but radically unfamiliar in its jagged syntax and extended lines.... If you made Robert Creeley write lines the length of Frank Stanford’s The Battlefield Where The Moon says I love you, gave them both the sensibility and precise diction of a contemporary Emily Dickinson riding on a horse fast enough to get from Athens to Brooklyn in 10 minutes, then you’d get something like Taylor’s poems.... High octane, pyrotechnic ... impressively defiant."