Once in a while we are privileged to witness an important literary event from the front row, so to speak. Samuel Hazo was the first poet laureate of Pennsylvania, and he served for ten years before his position was eliminated by a new governor, who said there wasn’t room for it in the budget. Since Mr. Hazo had not accepted any money for serving as poet laureate, one might be forgiven for wondering how closely the governor had studied his own budget, but governors have more important things to worry about.

A few weeks ago, Mr. Hazo turned 97 years old. He celebrated with his thirty-first collection of poems, which is now available from our friends at Serif Press.

All the poems in this collection are written in a kind of blank verse unique to Mr. Hazo, with three accents to the line, catching the rhythm of his best conversation. The topics range from war and peace (and the lack of difference between them) to dropping a penny on the floor and watching it spin.

Satisfaction troubles me.
                                         Dining
   on shrimp scampi, I say
   I’ll stop when I’ve had enough.
I rarely stop until enough
   becomes too much.
                                    That’s how
   satisfaction differs from perfection.

All the poems sound like Samuel Hazo talking straight to you—like sitting down with a great conversationalist as he lights his pipe and begins to get deeply interested in the subject.

And if you think you’d like to sit down for an hour with Samuel Hazo, here’s your opportunity. The poems in this collection are pure essence of Hazo—but more so. Find But More So at Amazon.