Year of Valentines (Coming Soon – 2026)
In Year of Valentines, John Reed writes 80+ valentines to “you” (the loved one, the missed one, the lost one), and to New York City itself. Passionate and cool tempered, Reed’s second collection of sonnets sees creative origins in the No Wave movement—the set of his childhood—with its splendor of dissipation, and merciless affections.
Heads and Haha
Our puppet heads are wooden, but heavy,
no good for kissing, but better for trying.
If you would remember my puppet name,
I could be an as-if someone again,
clattering promises you would ask for. If,
if we kissed, would we kiss with open mouths?
I don’t think I have a hinge in my jaw;
I think my mouth is carved in a pucker,
maybe shaping a word that can’t be said,
or tasting the wish by licking the flame.
If your face is carved like mine, with no hinge,
our wooden heads will peck please, please, please.
But if, if we have hinges and chins? Who
would we be to toss our heads and haha?
Published by Spuyten Duyvil Press
See John’s other work:
- Bomb: John Reed by Gee Henry
- Love Skeletons, John Reed in discussion with Elizabeth Trundle | Brooklyn Rail
- Tin House: The Last Sign You’ll Ever Read, Susan Marque in discussion with John Reed
This may be what it takes to get people to read poetry. —Vice Magazine
A brilliant and challenging tour de force. Which could be said about every book of his. —Michael Lally
John Reed exploded my concept of a sonnet. —Erika Anderson, Electric Literature
The poems in John Reed’s Year of Valentines are intense, vivacious, and addictive. Reed’s lines and phrases captivate with their wholly original blend of urbanity and rawness, precision and surprise, emotional intensity and verbal playfulness. —Peter Campion
Through the mystery and transformation in the blood, along with reading John Reed’s Year of Valentines, we may become puppets of love or puppets out of love. One day, maybe, our souls will exit from the wooden flesh of our bodies into greater longevity. Who knows? In startlingly, original imagery, Reed pumps the readers’ arteries and veins with the sassy brew from his poetic cauldron. —Richard Martin
There’s something dangerous here. —Elizabeth Trundle, The Brooklyn Rail
Love poems with built in lies and upside down truths, in which you can find a story of your own—and how you think about relationships. —Susan Marque, Tin House
Reed is a real New York City character—mysterious yet completely accessible, old-school but cutting-edge. A few years ago, he started sharing some newly written sonnets. … a narrator seemingly suspended above a great metaphorical chasm, either about to descend into oblivion or ascend to something sublime. —Gee Henry, Bomb Magazine
Reed has brought music’s remix culture to literature with stunning results. —David Gutowski, largeheartedboy
Readers of contemporary poetry have marveled at what Diane Seuss and Terrance Hayes have accomplished with the serial form. To illuminate another brilliant practitioner, I give you John Reed. … These sonnets follow the misadventures of lovers who slip in and out of identities, variously becoming puppets, magicians, gamblers, witches, skeletons. It’s the speaker in these sonnets who anchors the project. Part id and part love-lorn ghost, we follow a voice into Luna Park and keep going, back into the very real experience of wanting what we want. I’m reminded that a poem is the perfect place to be lost, in danger, and full of feeling. —Laura Cronk