Alan Humason’s poetry examines the lives of ordinary people through a narrative exploration of every day events—dating, doing work, driving home, walking outdoors, loving—knowing that honest epiphanies can spring from the most modest of pastimes and contacts. He aims to be insightful and empathetic about the human condition in clear, vivid, evocative language. Taking an observant story-teller’s point of view, rarely writing in the first person, Humason quickly crafts engaging tales that pulse with character, a sense of place, and deeper meanings.

Driving Around, Looking in Other People’s Windows is a poetry collection about a marriage falling apart in the face of illness and debt. Two young, idealistic poets try to move past the difficulties of their childhoods to make a life together, but good intentions aren’t the same as good plans.

Peacocks get attention. When people visit a park or zoo, these beautiful birds demand to be noticed. They puff out their chests and spread their glorious feathers for others to admire and envy. But do folks awed by the peacock stop to listen to other birds singing? Do park visitors even notice the calls of the grackles, cowbirds, starlings? Most likely, no. In Blackbird Songs, birds act as metaphor. We notice the peacocks; we listen to these showy folks and are dazzled by their physical beauty. But what about the blackbird? Isn’t there profundity and depth in her voice? Shouldn’t she be heard as well?