Simone Muench is author of Lampblack & Ash (Kathryn A. Morton Prize; Sarabande, 2005), which was named by The New York Mmes Book Review as an "Editor's Choice" selection, and The Air Lost in Breathing (Marianne Moore Prize; Helicon Nine, 2000). Her newest chapbook, co-written with Philip Jenks, is Little Visceral Carnival (Cinematheque, 2009). She acts as an editor for Sharkforum, serves on the advisory boards of Switchback Books and Universe, and is a recipient of two Illinois Arts Council Fellowships, the PSA's Bright Lights/Big Verse Prize, and other awards. Raised in the South, she now lives in Chicago and directs the Writing Program at Lewis University where she teaches creative writing and film studies. She is a vegetarian and a horror film fan.

Other poems by Simone Muench in Verse Daily:
November 21, 2005:   "Pretty White Dress" " Hey ladybird lurking..."
August 16, 2005:   "Drowning by the Light of Oranges "I pinned a star..."
July 23, 2003:  "The Melos of Medusa" "I once was a beautiful woman..."

Books by Simone Muench:

Other poems on the web by Simone Muench:
"You Were Long Days and I Was Tiger-Lined"
"Open Letter to Eros"
Two poems
"Hydrophobia"
"Shadowgraphs"

Simone Muench's Website.

About Orange Crush:

"Though Simone Muench's Orange Crush is riveted with poignant moments of history, each poem revels in a contemporary passion that holds the reader in an abiding now. I believe and trust each highly-tuned moment, every little, intrinsic turn. This poet's music is unique and personal, but it's also public; words collide softly to create a sound of feeling that registers in the body and mind. Orange Crush celebrates everydayness, while always moving toward the revelatory."
—Yusef Komunyakaa

"A sweet fever of a voice lures us into pictures of bone bonnets, whip stripes, and dead girls. These poems freeze time. Simone pulls absolute beauty and light from these dark moments. I'm in and hooked."
—Tim Rutili

"It is difficult to say in a few words all that should be, could be said of this powerful book. Its language is lush, exacting, and active; its sounds alert, nervy, and quick. All this may be seductive, lulling, entrancing, but then there are the facts of violence and grief one encounters, often wrenching combinations of the two. When a poem says: ‘my skin is soft/the safety's off’ I quake, shudder, and brace myself."
—Dara Wier