This isn't one of those poetry books that cloaks riddles in enigmas or tries to be sparse and spare so you fill in the good bits on your own. If anything, it's baroque, too much. Too much Bruno Bettelheim, too much reliance on linguistic terms as metaphors for for other things, too many thesaurus words, too many em dashes.
But the careful weighting and echoing of words is there. It sounds well. The best poem is the one that led me to the book, "The Word Cock & the Sublime," and the book is entirely worth finding just for that.