Poetry that dances the tightrope between the ephemeral and the squalid, and teases the beauty out of each. Images that linger and transform, like this excerpt from "fireflies":
"she ate honeydew and green apples
and insisted she had lost her breath
laughing into a bottle of wine
to be sealed and released later"
Full disclosure: I know the author from a poetry group we are both in online. I have enjoyed and praised his writing for some time. However, I purchased the book on my own and no one asked me to write this review.