There are some pretty lame-o poems in here, but like others have said, the strong ones really carry the anthology. Given how this collection is an ode to the idiosyncratic but shared experience that anyone who grew up in Chicago/Chicagoland carries with them, I almost like the friction that is created between the bad poems and good ones. It's like the city in that way, an infrastructure of gray bearing fruit to some of the finest cultural beauty in this country. I was taken by Van Cleave's introduction and Kathyrn Almy's "Routes". Like Van Cleave, when I'm not in Chicago, I find myself assembling an identity based on things I thought very little about while I lived there..WGN, pizza, da Lake, da Bulls, etc. Now that I am here for a year, I take comfort in the fact that millions of people suffer through the oppressive cold in winter to enjoy a few great days in summer. Out of pain comes joy, or something like that; in Chicago, this is true...in this anthology, this is true. Having grown up on the fringe of one of Chicago's lovely and rank forest preserves, I got chills at Almy's last four lines, "paved with broken glass. I walked inside/ my own escape set against weedy prairies, gray/ winter oaks-all the dusty city nature, lost/ under the enormous space above my head."