Kary Wayson: you have uncountable volumes of love in store from all who read your poetry.
Kary Wayson: you have uncountable volumes of love in store from all who read your poetry. Colleen J. McElroy: all men who read your poem “Boys Will Be” will, eventually, find the mirror that reflects them, and they’ll have that poem to thank, and also you. Cranky, overall, is strangely uneven: stylistically it swings so wildly it’s either vertiginous or thrilling just to turn its pages (dependent on mood, weather patterns, gastronomical states). There are poems as straight-ahead, digestible, as the best of, for example, Larry Levis, and also poems so careeningly experimental, Out, that even a devoted acolyte of Olena K. Davis has found himself pensive, rubbing a chin. It is, certainly, a good literary magazine, and astounding in its second issue-ness. Cranky has all the potential one could wish for a little and new literary journal, and here’s a metaphoric glass raised to their courage to pull it off.