Barn Dream Press
Here's a review of Paul Hannigan's The Carnation courtesy of the Ploughshares archive. There's this: "sometimes a sort of camp nonchalance or cute slapstick is alchemized into a desperate sense of exile." And then, "And then, when we least expect it, the same tenor of grotesqueness, of easy jocularity, burns itself permanently into our minds."
The conclusion: "And beneath, or above, it all we see the poet himself: weary, horny, in love and out, hungering, scoffing, or just remembering. Musing over an old photo album he wonders (these are the best lines in the book, to my mind):
And what fraction of your lifelong boredom
Is owing to these just claims of ectasy?"