The disappearing self

Mickey J. Corrigan's collection the disappearing self presents women as the walking wounded, somehow surviving men, marriages, beatings, hospitals, bars, loony bins, and bottles, and just slipping into aging, often in a marine setting with tides, surf, and salt. Her language is quirky with wonderful concreteness so we read the insignificance and feeling of disappearing until the end when You are one small wave/in an ocean of many oceans./This is the best/you can hope for, / the best you can do. A fine addition to her vast writings.

-Zan Gay, Honeymoon Woods and He Promises the Moon Over Miami

Reflections of regret and dreams left unmet are at the core of Mickey J. Corrigan's heart wrenching and provocative anthology. Told from a decidedly feminine point of view, the themes in the disappearing self are at times vivid, harsh and raw. Little bells of acknowledgment ring as you read, making you examine who you are and what you might/should have been. You absorb each one like passed hors d'oeuvres of remorse. Late Stage Accounting has imagery that is particularly memorable: Six girls hiked green mountains/ wearing the world like a red dress./Six girls who wanted everything/settled for what they got.>

-McGarvey Black, I Never Left and The First Husband

Mickey Corrigan is more fun than a circus clown car. Her poems are pure magic. She writes with such intestinal fortitude and depth that the reader is left stunned and craving more. The poems featured in the disappearing self are a wonderful mix of melancholia, despair, pain and fear offering bits of commentary on good sex, bad sex, aging, death, and everything in between. Corrigan's work is a must read.

-Aggie Cousino, Night Works