My rating: 5 of 5 stars
It was raining raining raining when I got the mail and opened it and read this book (thank goodness) instead of doing nothing. And what a beautiful book of poems printed on opaque vellum and what a treat to read the way the lines are broken open circuit lines, lines light years ahead of me like adjunct positions in the sense that they are hoovering, are smart and completely not- almost sad to be dealing w/ the space they occupy, sad with its own work, opening a dialogue with these knowns that pitch slowly forward into some new position, so by the end of the chapbook, the end is actually therein, achieved. How does she do that? Poems achieve so little, so slowly, almost nothing. But this did, as cold and known as it continued to be, get there. New ground (thank goodness, thank goodness) how refreshing.