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In this feature, thirty poets, novelists, editors, bloggers and reviewers share their summer reading lists.

Sally Ball’s second book of poems begins with modesty as its mien. Addressing a nuthatch, the speaker poses “no threat” because she loves “to make no difference here.” She goes on: “My throat like yours -- / rapid little tremor, / heart-freight, air.” As slight presences show up here and there, Ball’s tone signals a desire to accommodate and be one of them.

For a good laugh and a sigh, Carlos Rojas likes to repeat a piece of advice he got from Jose Manuel Lara (1914-2003), the founder of Planeta, Spain’s biggest media empire. “Carlos, you and the likes of you are a bunch of pedantic dudes, who know just about four things,” said Lara. “Therefore you believe that readers should know at least two things in order to resemble you.

Welcome to the Seawall’s semi-annual poetry feature. This season, seventeen poets write briefly on some of their favorite new and recent titles. This multi-poet/title feature is posted here in April and November. The commentary includes:

Joel Brouwer on Lake Superior by Lorine Niedecker (Wave Books)
Brian Teare on The Weeds by Jared Stanley (Salt Publishing)

It is said, as if it were obvious, that James Salter has structured his eight books of prose fiction around spikes of erotic arousal.

What does it mean to think and live aesthetically in the post-industrial, globalized world?