Like Montlack, I grew up on Long Island, and it seems this talented poet has got the suburbs exactly right. Lighting up his poems are distinctive, amusing portraits of the women in his life—from schoolgirl days through their East Village punker phase to matrons playing Mah Jongg. With a few drag queens thrown in. However, as seen through his gimlet eye, liberation hasn’t made the 'boys' happier or connecting with someone easier. Though having a mechanic father who accepts him is quite a tribute to the openness Gay Rights have brought. A memorable collection, and fun to read!
—Edward Field, author of After the Fall, Poems Old and New
Cool Limbo navigates a lavish parade of constantly shifting sexual codes, zeroing in with wit and precision on such topics as the pursuit of beauty, the lure of indifference, the gaudy charm of the suburbs, and mortality. Even the somber pieces maintain a tone that celebrates subversive pleasure. These are poems you’ll want to cruise.
—Elaine Equi, author of Ripple Effect: New & Selected Poems
Satire and nostalgia may seem like an unwieldy pairing, but Montlack pulls it off, gleefully dishing out devious one-liners while creating warts-and-all portraits of friends and family with generosity and insight. His raucous but wise misfits join in a chorus promising that in Cool Limbo, we'll never be alone.
—Mark Bibbins, author of The Dance of No Hard Feelings
With an unabashed "Uncle Mame" penchant for pop and camp, Montlack's meticulous ear for urban banter is used to maximum effect—hilarious, compassionate, and frank, as well as delightful.
—Cyrus Cassells, author of Beautiful Signor
Cool Limbo strikes a chord for any gay man who grew up an honorary citizen in a community of hard-knock divas—"ladies in waiting with truck-driver mouths/ and illegal tattoos." But this female paradise is also inhabited by gal pals, their mothers, silver screen icons, even Hello Kitty—each earthly goddess preparing the boy for the inevitable expulsion into the terrible/beautiful world of men. Montlack's poems, sparkling with awe and ethos, celebrate those days as lessons which will enable a man to offer "some of that female love" to another man.
—Rigoberto González, author of Other Fugitives and Other Strangers