Jason Koo was born in New York City and grew up in Cleveland, Ohio. The recipient of fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Vermont Studio Center, the University of Houston and the University of Missouri-Columbia, he has published his poetry and prose in numerous journals, including The Yale Review, North American Review and The Missouri Review. He currently lives in New York, where lie teaches at NYU and Lehman College and serves as Poetry Editor of Low Rent.

Other poems by Jason Koo in Verse Daily:
July 24, 2005:   "Driving Home, I see a Rothko Painting in the Distance and Pull Over to Give It a Lift" "When I stop to pick it up, it's standing in front..."

Books by Jason Koo:

Other poems on the web by Jason Koo:
Two poems
"There Is No There, There"

About Man on Extremely Small Island:

"Jason Koo's Man on Extremely Small Island is an absurdly funny meditation on loneliness, desire and the silences between us. By turns mythic and pop, Koo's poems explore the anger, betrayal and compromises of young love, as well as the complexities of communication within families. Man on Extremely Small Island is a self-effacing look at anguish, an expansive and inclusive debut."
—Denise Duhamel

"Despite the voluminosity of these poems, they celebrate and capture the spirit of inner malaise that permeates modernity, all over our towns, cities and small islands. There, in the language, and in the languorous, frustrating rhythms is a portrait of our being that strikes me as original and ritualistic. This is exciting writing that will make its mark."
—Major Jackson

"The poems in this book are haunted by love. Koo writes plaintively, honestly, persuasively about his experiences and the dimensions of longing. His work is also socially astute, incorporating references to both 'high' and 'low' culture to convey the weave of information and experience that shapes how we connect to the world. In that respect, the poems expand beyond the personal into a larger examination of desire. As Koo writes, 'This is for the romantics, / the ones who install themselves in diners at night, / hogging the booths with their books, / hunched over the moonlight / of pages.' I find his vision expansive and humane."
—Bob Hicok