"...part Frank O’Hara, part Robert Herrick, and, yes, part chick lit, it’s a book that hurts, and a book that flirts... It’s also part of the least self-important, and therefore the most important, tradition of lyric, the tradition of trying to make the tiny moments, their delights and disappointments, last."
Stephenie Burt, Slate
"Quotidian, weird, intimate, witty, and skittery, Knapp's poems are refractions through a funhouse mirror. ...Read it and weep over your nachos and wine; it will leave you wanting more."
"Deliciously irreverent, Knapp’s poems welcome us into a weird urban landscape full of airports, broken hearts, wine and spilled dog chow. ...[She] delves into the shadow and still finds glimpses of light."
San Francisco Chronicle
"These poems are capable of being self-aware but unapologetic and far from self-important; they are honest, and overly, brutally honest at that ...her wit and humor as the self-aware, unapologetic persona meets the blunt edges and observations of a self-destructive, fatalist persona."
"The keynotes of MOUTH are rueful resiliency and brash celebration in spite of losses... Tracey Knapp's protagonist is a funny, brave woman who refuses to quit appreciating life ( 'I write to say I have not yet splattered' ) and who knows she should never shut up."
"Tracey Knapp's MOUTH sings of missed cabs, visible nipples, and awkward martinis. In other words: everything that matters. Pick striped shirts with her. Groan at the sky. Feel the moon dip into the trees. Don't be late. She has wine and cable."