Daniel Y. Harris’ Collaboratives include The Return of Doom-Headed Three (with Rupert M. Loydell, X-Peri Series, Swan World, 2018), The Co-ordinates of Doubt (with Rupert M. Loydell, The Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2017), heshe egregore (with Irene Koronas, Editions du Cygne, 2016), Di./um (with Irene Koronas, Smallminded Books, 2016), Esophagus Writ (with Rupert M. Loydell, The Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2014), The New Arcana (with John Amen, NYQ Books, 2012) and Paul Celan and the Messiah’s Broken Levered Tongue: An Exponential Dyad (with Adam Shechter, Červená Barva Press, 2010).
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The Return of Doom-Headed Three (with Rupert M. Loydell, X-Peri Series, Swan World, 2018)
Exergue
Who is the Colonel? At which academic instution might we find Professor Tilbury? Why are Spinoff and Distrust so incompetent? Why did that most succcesful and innovative of bands, Doom-Headed Three, break up at the height of their success? Why is everything so confused as the world becomes an infinite moebius loop of regression and repetition? In the Afterlife Bar, post-punk delirium awaits readers trapped in the horror of the eternal never or the never-ending now. In their third collaborative work, Harris and Loydell have unleashed a hyperactive monster – of myth, rock, delusion and delight – into the world. Read this appendix to the Rough Guide to Heaven at your peril: it will ensnare, amuse and confuse you in equal measures.
Reviews
The Return of Doom-Headed Three, Review by Steve Spence, Litter Magazine
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The Co-ordinates of Doubt (with Rupert M. Loydell, The Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2017)
Exergue
In their second collaborative sequence, anthropoetjesters Daniel Y. Harris and Rupert Loydell explore the temporality of place, the haunted landscapes and unknown worlds around them and within them, in melancholic and magical prose poems. Braving the electric storms of memory to resurrect the impossible, these texts draw on both surrealism and magic realism to chart the dysfunctions and diversions that makes us human, the languages we hardly dare to speak
Reviews
The Co-ordinates of Doubt, “Information Overload,” Review by Steve Spence, Stride
The Co-ordinates of Doubt, Review by Mike Ferguson, gravyfromthegazebo
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heshe egregore (with Irene Koronas, Editions du Cygne, 2016)
Praise
heshe egregore by daniel y harris and irene koronas is a composite unbook of unpoetry engaged with the appropriated concept of male and female archetypes skewing traditional notions of authorship in an unfettered void where authenticity and originality are a shared wiki culture phished scooped reblogged retweed regrammed and reposted ad infinitum for file sharing sampling and trolling in the digital arena of the internet to repurpose words
—maximillian pissante, editor, the unre journal
Reviews
Daniel Y. Harris & Irene Koronas do not just touch gloves in one of the strangest and most unrestrained attacks on any form of gender inequality—or indeed, the very idea of gender—that I’ve ever encountered.
They pair male and female historical figures, sometimes of this earth (Sid & Nancy) and sometimes not so much (The Devil and the Bride of Frankenstein) and slowly dismantle the coding which makes them so different. This is accomplished through rapid-fire automatism, or what looks like automatism; it takes real creative balls to break horizons like this, and not the variety that sits behind NPR and whatever is meekly new in this arena. Wait till you see Ted Bundy and Aileen Wournos combine in this hybrid language; they eventually become inseparable. A web ladle of human consciousness scorches the page, and they actually know what they are doing, obviously having devoured derrida and all the demurrers. Recommended for those who enjoyed “A Nest of Ninnies” by Ashbery and Schuyler but also want a psychic statement of out and out rebellion.
“Something Beyond Human and Gender Hybrids: A Review by John Allen of heshe egregore” (Edition du Cygne, 2016)
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Di./um (with Irene Koronas, Smallminded Books, 2016)
Obaldar
Obaldar obaldi simpi orbits, clocks in, down both ancipitals plasticene yield the un/sick: anti-glaze repeats insect lords, fierce firants resistant to blaster gash. Pinackal mass media, fractal system. Repeat after me, simpi impi/si axle, rip-steal, six simple machines flywheel external torque force, proto-sinaic, qumranic—cum ball bear the load applied parts as form, size, roughness, tapered slots, crease and roll to capture.
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Esophagus Writ (with Rupert M. Loydell, The Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2014)
Exergue
In The Inner Hoodlum, Professor Ian Hale suggests that poets and other artistes would do well to free themselves from the cultural constraints of society and allow themselves “to transgress and confound expectations and niceties”. This, he suggests, can be achieved by rituals, processes and choice of subject matter, with an eye to the Surrealists and Dadaticians of the early and mid 20th century. Loydell and Harris seem to have taken this advice to heart: their inner hoodlums are present in the multitude of perverse characters and situations they have jointly created in their text. The psychologist Frupp argued that the true poet teeters on the edge of what was then regarded as possession, a schizophrenia that is the result of a spiritual personality disorder, a cast of characters permanently in discourse with itself. This might well explain the bewildering jack-in-a-box text these authors have created, their inward looking intertextuality seemingly intent on subterfuge and hermetic meaning.
Praise
A shocking and unseemly intellectual debacle of the highest order, a teleological catastrophe, an epistemological scandal, a semantic horrorshow: Loydell-Harris have done it again…great stuff.
—AC Evans
It takes off with the punch of a runaway rocket, over eventful horizons of the Lit singularity throw the chance encounter of a sewing machine with a rainbow in an abattoir of the senses…then lights the afterburners.
—Andrew Darlington
You’re watching the Dystopia Channel, rolling news with the strap-line: “everyone knows nothing is true.” The very latest updates on ancient wisdom from the R&D labs at Fraud Pharmaceuticals, sponsored by Rimbaud Weapons Systems. In-depth reports on scandalous illusions and luminous undoings. Authentic footage of the West going wester than west.
—Alan Halsey
Reviews
Esophagus Writ, Review by Mike Ferguson, gravyfromthegazebo
Esophagus Writ, Review by Steve Spencer, Tears in the Fence
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The New Arcana (with John Amen, NYQ Books, 2012)
Reviews
The New Arcana, Review by Ricardo Nirenberg, Offcourse Literary Journal
The New Arcana, “Poetry as Tesseract,” Review by Barb Caffrey, Shiny Book
ReviewThe New Arcana, Review by Brian Fanelli, [Pank]
The New Arcana, Review by Zara Raab, The Critical Flame
Review by Cindy Hochman, Great Weather for Media
The New Arcana, Review by Serena, Savvy Verse & Wit
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Paul Celan and the Messiah’s Broken Levered Tongue: An Exponential Dyad (with Adam Shechter, Červená Barva Press, 2010)
Praise
As Ron Sukenick so aptly put it in his last book “Mosaic Man,” Jews are both proto and posthuman. Adam Shechter and Daniel Y. Harris are possessed of that molten globe of fiery perdition that draws the brighter children of the tribe to the flame. Add poetry and oy! What can I say? Shechter and Harris have made another journey to the hellchamber of Jewish mystery/creation/death and came out in company, a big company that includes a lot of fried geniuses, but most of all they came out, and it’s good to see them.
—Andrei Codrescu (www.codrescu.com), is the author of The Posthuman Dada Guide: Tzara and Lenin Play Chess (Princeton University Press) and edits Exquisite Corpse at (www. corpse.org).
I can’t begin to comprehend/surround all that is transpiring here in this Harris/Shechter collaboration/fusion—I’ll need other readings toward adequate bearings—but as Seine suicide Paul Celan hovers among these pages of prayerful heresies—“no Shabbos-always Shabbos”—I experience a language that wields “pen as scalpel,” and I feel flayed but grateful for this awakening into wild inquiry/attack. By way of thousands of years of Jewish history & of their own lives slashed out in poems & prose pieces of mesmerizing power, even as they wonder if they’ve gone too far, these two visionaries/revisionists have made something powerful & new here, something of charismatic complication. Oi Vey, & mazel tov.
—William Heyen, author of Shoah Train: Poems, finalist for the National Book Award
Harris and Shechter have collaborated seamlessly, their individual voices and contents blending into an expansive and finely textured synthesis of soaring art and impressive erudition. Here we find elements of dadaism, surrealism, imagism, objectivism, collage, confession, even memoir. Providing a haunting backdrop—and perhaps giving the work its ultimate context and cohesion—is the poeticized memory of Paul Celan, an homage to the Holocaust, and a testimony on the history of persecution itself. This is quite an extraordinary book, in terms of both vision and execution, one that should leave its mark on contemporary literature.
—John Amen, Editor, The Pedestal Magazine and author of More of Me Disappears
From Shabbatai Tzvi to Paul Celan, it’s a room full of Jewish Messiahs! Shechter & Harris, leap in, grab, pinch, mosh—and thus make an ecstatic space for themselves within. This is a manuscript of an electrified, brilliantly nervous, heart-wrenching conversation that’s dripping with redemptive sweat.
—Jake Marmer, Managing Editor, Mima’amakim Journal
With literary skill, Harris’s and Shechter’s words merge to form a unique and generous form of writing that anyone can connect and relate to—having captured an epochal longing that is a voice of our time.
—Sheema Kalbasi, author of Echoes in Exile, Director of Reelcontent and The Other Voices International Project
Reviews
Accolades
Daniel Y. Harris 