Reviewed by Michael Maiello Kristin Bock’s Glass Bikini comprises a poetic cosmology where Jungian archetypes swirl through contemporary life and we witness uncanny valleys
I have come away from your pile of poems with my fingers burning small hearts along my wrist. My mouth has turned them over
My mother used to snap her fingers and say, “My mind is fast, at least one step ahead of yours.” That was what she
or Castor canadensis I never build when he’s on the clock, silently pacing the riverbank. I am South of being the right mammal. I