Reviewed by Jamie Lorenzen In the opening stanza of the title poem of her second book of poems, Michelle Meyer’s ostensible trouble with being
I’d just got done taking down the Christmas tree when my family called to warn me that my grandfather was breathing through a tube
The Aeromancer divines the future by reading sky signs, clouds, bird flights, lightning My mother set a tumbler of gold Jack Daniels beside Pall
Opening a fifth in place of presents to an old movie from an era of snow and repentance, and fedoraed men with turned up