“In his debut collection, Kunz charts the gritty, physical terrain of blue-collar masculinity: a workbench made of scrap wood, a night job in an engine shop, a father’s hands with ‘knuckles more scar/than skin.’”

New York Times Book Review

Approach these poems as short stories, plainspoken lyric essays, controlled arcs of a bildungsroman, then again as narrative verse. Tap Out, Edgar Kunz’s debut collection, reckons with working‑class heritage. Within are poignant, troubling portraits of blue‑collar lives, mental health in contemporary America, and what is conveyed and passed on through touch and words―violent, or simply absent. This hungry new voice asks: after you make the choice to leave, what is left behind, what can you make of it, and at what cost?

Praise for Tap Out

An extraordinary new voice that draws its energy from an underrepresented perspective.”

Publishers Weekly ✭ Starred Review

A whirlwind debut. Stories of sclerotic lives told in wrought images, Kunz arrives with real poetic talent. [He] pulls us into his poems and keeps us there through crisp detail. Tap Out lives in a bittersweet world, and does so well, but there are also fine touches here: a mother who has had enough, a son who sees beauty in loss.”

The Millions “Must-Read Poetry”

"Kunz has a keen ear and knows how to weaponize it for emotional effect. A fine poet.”

Sewanee Review

Arresting imagery, unexpected detail, brilliant use of tensions, a flowing rhythm and overall accessibility make this a collection to be read and re-read. Tap Out superbly mines the beauty, brutality, tensions and contradictions of working-class U.S. communities.”

Shelf Awareness

“Kunz will eschew observation’s safe distance, and will instead zoom in closely...[The] ability to transmogrify a familiar phrase or word into something unknown stands as one of Kunz’s major talents. The poems grow up with their poet. They refuse simplistic renderings of complicated dynamics and opt instead for a vulnerability.”

On the Seawall

“His style is not reminiscent of the poetry of, say, Bukowski, as much as the short stories of Raymond Carver…
A stand-out debut poetry collection by a writer who has built a distinct voice.

— Pendora Magazine

“Kunz paralyzed me from the very first poem of his debut collection, Tap Out, and I will never quite forgive him for that. The following pages proved no less disarming and contain some of the most tender explications of masculinity and fatherhood I’ve ever read from any writer. As someone who has long fed on the long, feral lines of Anne Sexton, Kunz is the first male poet I am confident to call a favorite forever.”

Paperback Paris

It hurts to read these poems and I think it hurt to write them.”

— Annie Proulx, author of The Shipping News and Brokeback Mountain

“The sustained lyricism of these poems is all the more powerful for being burned at the edges by memory, by grief, by regret. In terms of craft, this poetry creates a world where human action reaches language the way gravity bends starlight: in a drama of weight and light. This is a hard-pressed place, a territory of failed relationships and regions that never become landscape. As its reporter, Edgar Kunz lives up to its challenges and understands its limits. This is a wonderful first book, memorable and unsettling.”

— Eavan Boland, author of A Woman Without a Country and A Poet’s Dublin

“Edgar Kunz’s startling debut Tap Out is one of the best books of poetry I’ve read in a long time. These poems interrogate what is received and what is bequeathed in our damaged systems of masculinity, and they do so in ways that are unexpectedly vulnerable. At the same time, the poems are onomatopoeia of humility and busted machismo. It’s as if the poems themselves are surprised by how much harm has been done, how much energy and emotion have been expended simply surviving inside of our toxic patriarchy. Fathers are complicit. Friends and brothers are complicit. The speaker is complicit, too, and yet the poems do their vital work without soapboxing. They search constantly for better ways of being human. These are essential poems.”

— Adrian Matejka, author of Map to the Stars and The Big Smoke

“There is no ground of existence that does not require (or fail to sustain) its poet. This proposition, requiring continual re-proving, has found again its confirmation in Edgar Kunz’s first bookIn the lineage of Levine, Jordan, and Laux, Tap Out presents the data of blows received and taken in fully. Yet these poems do not return blow for blow; they offer instead an unflinching, continued allegiance to abiding connection. Without summation or comment, they remind us that all alchemies of being are possible. Kunz’s precision-tool language of memory and witness enlarges, pivots, pieces together the broken into a world made new, survivable, holdable, forgiven.”

 — Jane Hirshfield, author of The Beauty and Come, Thief

“Edgar Kunz extends the legacy of James Wright and Philip Levine in these gutsy, tough-minded, working-class poems of memory and initiation. Tap Out is a marvelous debut, a well-made and harrowing book.  

— Edward Hirsch, author of Gabriel and A Poet’s Glossary

“This powerful collection reads like an elegy and a confession, like a slap to the face followed by a plaintive kiss, like watching bad things happen and knowing that you’re complicit. Yet cutting through every one of these essential poems is a gritty, naturalistic beauty that makes me want to read them again and again.
Tap Out is a gem, and Edgar Kunz is a major talent.

— Andre Dubus III, author of Townie and House of Sand and Fog

“Tap Out is an ardent and gorgeous refusal to scorn the aches and wounds that bring us closer to mercy. Rippling with both sorrow and wonder, his narratives sift through the intricacies of masculinity, working class lives, and abandonment. The telling isn’t singed with nostalgia that obscures pain: his finely-wrought lines make visible the scars that tether the self to hurt, to hope. The poems are deftly scored on the page—the diction itself is revelatory. ShopRite. Larch. Chamber-throat. Edgar Kunz’s debut reminds us the heart has its own intelligence.”

— Eduardo C. Corral, author of Slow Lightning