Holy heck y'all– I just got my first shipment of 'Oh God Get Out Get Out'. I don't like to toot my own horn but *bugle bugle* it turned out great. Make sure to snag your copy **here**, and check out these top-notch blurbs from some people I really admire:
“Bill Moran writes from the depths. Visceral, vulnerable and often violent - his prose like voice makes the familiar unfamiliar but some how cognizant of something you didn’t know you wanted to know. Bill's willingness to cut you off at the emotional knees with out anesthetic defies the compassion of the EMT he trained to be, but his consistent, insistent persistent rhythm hides a surgical and therapeutic precision that you somehow enjoy despite the pain his truth inflicts. Ultimately if you surrender to Moran’s medicine, he will, with every blunt twist of his accusing yet plaintive knife make you better.
- Phil Griffin, visual artist and film maker (Amy Winehouse, “Back to Black” video)
“This is a book full of fractured glass & grace & grief & praise. This is a book where the elegiac is reset into a cast and a flaming sling. This is a book where the broken bone is made to laugh before a startled & disarticulated crowd. Bill Moran’s debut collection Oh God Get Out Get Out is a startling first voyage into the unknown, you can practically hear the voice’s urgency & heart bleeding through the text. Each new poem is an ambulance filled with sage, burning toward someone else’s heaven.”
–sam sax, author of MADNESS (Penguin, 2017), winner of The National Poetry Series
"Oh God Get Out Get Out is, more than anything, a sprawling plea with sharp edges. A conversation with God about fear, geography, vices, and forgiveness. Bill Moran's ability to shake the most out of a story is evident, in Louisiana, in dive bars, in hospitals. This is a book of poems as much as it is a book of prayers. Moran, in this work, crafts deep well of healing that we can all look into and see our own faces looking back up at us. Breathless imagery, a fast-moving car that stops right before it drives you off of the cliff. Indeed, as he says: Let me go to glory in a bowling alley, Lord. Let it look like how I lived: all aesthetic."
–Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib, poet and author of “The Crown Ain’t Worth Much” (Button Poetry, 2016), essayist, and cultural critic