From Kirkus Reviews
In McClures latest, two long poems (Haiku Edge and Crisis Blossom) comprise one surprisingly unified volume that succeeds in conveying both the rhythms and the terrors of ordinary life. McClure has a profoundly Eastern consciousness and displays a Zen-like affinity for simplicity and white space, a proclivity reflected most obviously in the visual arrangement of his verse into short lines centered on the page and having a sharp vertical thrust. Haiku Edge, a seemingly random construction of haiku, portrays the disparate elements and experiences of life in McClures hometown of Oakland (Calif.). Although the pieces all display the impressionism and narrative restraint typical of the haiku form (MAROON / suitcase / by / a / garbage can. / My / white / breath / in / air.), taken together they form a kind of mosaic of the daily world, at once sharply patterned and unobtrusive. Crisis Blossom, written in very similar style, nevertheless presents almost a mirror image of the world of Haiku Edge. Its a sharply interior collection of three works written in the aftermath of an airplane crash that nearly caused the authors death. Narrating the experience from the unexamined peace of take-off (Smell of greasy food / in the airport) to the final peace of recovery (SPRING BEAUTY / THANKSGIVING / THANKS GIVING / GIVING THANKS), the poetry follows a familiar Dante-esque route from tragedy to rebirth. -- Copyright ©1999, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.

Louis Mckee, Painted Bird Quarterly
Once he begins stripping away the layers of human skin and exposes his truer self, hard and raw, raw and vulnerable, you no longer are listening to music, but are moving through poetry.

Richard Powell, Small Pond Magazine
McClure's work is about liberation--chiefly from the enslavement of one's own mind and spirit....

Robert Creeley
"Michael McClure shares a place with the great William Blake, with the visionary Shelley, with the passionate D. H. Lawrence."

Book Description
"Rain Mirror," writes poet Michael McClure, "is my most bare and forthright book. It contains two long poems, 'Crisis Blossom' and 'Haiku Edge' which are quite disparate from one another." Yet brought under a single cover, the poems compliment each other as do light and dark, the Apollonian and the Dionysian, Yin and Yang. "Haiku Edge" is a serial poem of linked haikus in the American idiom. Often humorous, sometimes harsh, always elegant, they catch moments in the landscape of Oakland's East Bay Hills where McClure now lives. "Crisis Blossom" in contrast is a long poem in three parts ("Graftings," "After the Solstice," and "After Meltdown") that record the poet's months' long shock and recovery after a near-fatal airplane accident. It is, in McClure's words, "my state of psyche, capillaries, muscles, fears, boldnesses, and hungers, down where they exist without managment." With Rain Mirror, the poet moves in two directions, inward and outward, to arrive at the balance point between the self and nonself: "THERE'S ME/and no me/on the other side/I'm here under hand/AND THERE/where thoughts glide."

FROM THE PUBLISHER

"Rain Mirror," writes Michael McClure, "stands as my most bare and forthright book. It contains two long poems, 'Haiku Edge' and 'Crisis Blossom,' which are quite disparate from one another." Together, the poems complement each other as do light and dark.. ""Haiku Edge" is a poem of linked haiku, often humorous, sometimes harsh, and always elegant. "Crisis Blossom," in contrast, is a long poem in three parts that records the author's "state of psyche, capillaries, muscles, fears, boldnesses, and hungers down where they exist without management," and the months of shock and recovery during a psychophysical meltdown.

FROM THE CRITICS

Kirkus Reviews

In McClure's latest, two long poems ("Haiku Edge" and "Crisis Blossom") comprise one surprisingly unified volume that succeeds in conveying both the rhythms and the terrors of ordinary life. McClure has a profoundly Eastern consciousness and displays a Zen-like affinity for simplicity and white space, a proclivity reflected most obviously in the visual arrangement of his verse into short lines centered on the page and having a sharp vertical thrust. "Haiku Edge," a seemingly random construction of haiku, portrays the disparate elements and experiences of life in McClure's hometown of Oakland (Calif.). Although the pieces all display the impressionism and narrative restraint typical of the haiku form ("MAROON / suitcase / by / a / garbage can. / My / white / breath / in / air."), taken together they form a kind of mosaic of the daily world, at once sharply patterned and unobtrusive. "Crisis Blossom," written in very similar style, nevertheless presents almost a mirror image of the world of "Haiku Edge." It's a sharply interior collection of three works written in the aftermath of an airplane crash that nearly caused the author's death. Narrating the experience from the unexamined peace of take-off ("Smell of greasy food / in the airport") to the final peace of recovery ("SPRING BEAUTY / THANKSGIVING / THANKS GIVING / GIVING THANKS"), the poetry follows a familiar Dante-esque route from tragedy to rebirth.