PRAISE FOR THE NAMES OF ANCIENT WARS

“To read John Leo’s debut collection The Names of Ancient Wars is to immerse in the music of want: for motion, for better traditions, for gentler ecology, and maybe most of all, to be seen fully and without hesitation beyond the scaffolding of history. These sharply written, exacting poems languish in line and metaphor before rendering themselves through ear and straight to the heart like a favorite song you’ve not heard yet. And in between is longing, whether on a bright mountaintop or in the middle of a myth. “

- Adrian Matejka, author of Map to the Stars

“In this compelling debut, Leo seeks “to hunt [his] other selves.” The journey takes him into his own past and into the more ancient past, to Texas and to Egypt, through love and through grief. The collection dizzies itself around a set of words—wolves, teeth, blood, boy, fire—creating a world that’s fiercely gripping. The poems are violent and corporeal and euphoric. Leo is an exciting new voice in American poetry.”

- Sarah Blake, author of Naamah

“John Leo’s The Names of Ancient Wars simmers with music and metaphor, a current of image that frequently crafts moments of splendor and surprise. You will encounter “an ambivalence of crickets,” the realization that “some lands are actual blood,” and a lover who misses their partner so deeply, they catch a hornet and set it free in their kitchen to bring life to a lonely home. The wars in these poems—waged in both physical and spiritual landscapes—can be difficult for the host of voices Leo shares, but hope is never too far away. As one speaker notes, “If I look down from here I can see/the parade of my future selves./Their backs are beautiful.”

- Mitchell L.H. Douglas, author of dying in the scarecrow's arms

“Do you believe a heart / can hold what you’ve been / trying to hold?”: John Leo’s debut collection The Names of Ancient Wars is filled with questions that not only pull us deeper into the universe of the book, they also offer us a deeper look into ourselves. And what do we find in the depths? What’s behind each curtained door? Violence. A security guard throwing garbage at a caged bird, a fern becoming a fist, a demon removing one mask to reveal a crueler mask. Leo asks us to face the harm we cause in the macro and micro. These poems don’t offer a solution, but rather experience. “Like the rest of you, I am trying / to decide what I can live with.” Read this book. Decide what you’re willing to live with.”

- Paige Lewis, author of Space Struck