"By turns pained and playful, deceptively clear and transparently oblique, these poems show a will toward meaning that must find its way through the signs, superstitions, and provocations of language. The commonplace world is greedily dismembered and collected, brought home to wallpaper a constantly emptied interior—-of house, of body, of marriage, of idea. Is it a comfort, all this cutting and slipping? Is it poetic romp? Or does it follow the sorrow of everything else that falls apart and slips away? The poet won’t say, but the poems say yes, yes, and yes." —Susan Tichy