Jason Tandon was born in Hartford, Connecticut in 1975. He is the author of Give Over the Heckler and Everyone Gets Hurt, winner of the St. Lawrence Book Award from Black Lawrence Press (due out in 2009). He is also the author of two chapbooks, Rumble Strip (also from sunnyoutside) and Flight, both of which were nominated for the 2008 Massachusetts Book Award. His poems were twice nominated for the Pushcart Prize in 2007 and have appeared in many journals, including New York Quarterly, Notre Dame Review, Columbia Poetry Review, The Laurel Review, Poetry International, Poet Lore, and Fugue. Tandon holds a BA and MA in English from Middlebury College and an MFA from the University of New Hampshire. He lives in Hadley, Massachusetts with his wife and their dog Fergus.

Books by Jason Tandon: Wee Hour Martyrdom, Rumble Strip, Flight

Other poems on the web by Jason Tandon:
Three poems
"Breakfast in My Twenties"
"Cleaning Up after the Dog"

About Wee Hour Martyrdom:

"Jason Tandon’s Wee Hour Martyrdom presents the reader with a delightfully imaginative re-imagining of the everyday in language that is straightforward yet reveals such wonderful images that one cannot help but read the poems over and over, gaining a new perspective each time."
—Raymond Hammond

"Jason Tandon displays the rare talent of being able to weave his own history into many other histories while displaying a staggering command of language and music. His lines have a spark that constantly fires and keeps you engaged and curious. The word you didn’t expect always appears, but it’s always the right word. His work is lively and deserves to be read, and I hope many new readers discover him in this excellent book."
—J. E. Pitts

"Tandon’s poems hover upon the knife-edge of a sort of hypnagogic realism, where the world to one side appears as the daily world of stories and objects, but the gaze is turned a bit to the other side, revealing the world’s disquieting, true nature, so that it’s always some wee hour where the people are ‘pointing to the smoke rising from the far-off trees.’ It’s a persuasive view, this other side, into which there is, at all moments, the possibility we might disappear."
—John Gallaher