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
My sister rides a one-eyed horse. This is no allegory for the degradation of American romanticism. This is a humble beast left incomplete by
Did it fail because it didn’t come in first, didn’t reach the summit, didn’t score more, didn’t make the team? Because its opponent falsified
I need sight like a mantis shrimp, each eye sweeping its own span of ocean, or eagles who quickly shift their focus, see