"Centaur testifies to the grave fact that humans can harm each other until they want to trade in their bodies: 'I want to feel alive,' says the man seeking to become a centaur as the book begins. This is a masterful poetic debut marked by lyric brilliance and difficult, yet gleaming, wisdom."—Katie Ford, author of Colosseum
"The terrific, turbulent poems in Greg Wrenn's Centaur seem as much etched as written—acid-exact, black promises on white possibilities, lines and space crosshatched with thrilling precision. These poems will startle you at first, and then haunt you long after."—J. D. McClatchy, editor of The Yale Review and author of Hazmat
"These powerful poems mark the aliveness, suffering, and sensuality of the body. They map out erotic adventures and the loneliness of human need. They flout danger with superb lyric craft. But they don't stop there. Each poem offers a paradigm of yearning held together by a rare excellence of language and music. This is a marvelous debut collection."—Eavan Boland, author of A Journey with Two Maps