Reviewed by Basia Wilson In crafting a poem, any good poet knows to consider the myriad ways a reader may approach their work. Take,
All tapered, watchful, streamlined back from whiskers to racing ears to claws. Even in this stream I saw one, dowsing its snout through
Loneliness this bladed cannot be had without tenacity. Every night I dance a slow salsa against the whetstone. Whittle talons. Shave angles to tines.
I would love to pull a hat off my head and use my dirty forearm to wipe away a hard shine. To sit with