I read the first two thirds quite rapidly because I was fascinated by the project, which is writing sets of two prose poems that are interrelated, whether opposites, like Anger/Generosity or practically synonymous like Sky/Weather. Dunn is a very capable explorer, willing to see similarities where we might want to see differences and vice versa, looking at things from different perspectives.
I then put it down and couldn't pick it up again until I am now rested by a vacation in which I'm recovering from a cold and so can't do anything but rest and a few chores. I've decompressed enough not to care whether it reminds me of politics. And again, I was drawn into the compact comparisons and the places they took him. This book is a keeper because it's worth reading again, especially years later, to see what you think of it with the benefit of another 5 or 10 years. I found myself wondering what I would have thought of it if I were 10 or 20 years younger. Any one of the titles gets me thinking how I would have tackled (or avoided) that as a subject for a poem: Vengeance, Paradox, Certainty.
Let me give you a taste by sharing the first lines of a couple of the pairings. First Reading/Erasure, then Vulgar/Sublime.
Reading
From his hotel balcony in Italy, he sees a lovely woman sunning herself on a balcony adjacent to his. Only a little wall and a few large plants separate them. She's topless, but after a while that doesn't matter. She's reading a book he's written and he can see her lips moving to some of his words.
Erasure
I've crossed things out with a thin, single stroke so the original could be read, leaving for investigation both the correction and the corrected. I've intentionally erased two people from my life, only two, yet can't help following the traces of them.
Vulgar
Not always bad taste, but the exercise of taste without knowing the level above it. Ostentation, sometimes as small as a wink. The gum-chewer, of course, and the man with a wad of bills.
Sublime
Las Vegas. Shut in for a weekend with slots, roulette, black jack, craps. A little of one, a lot of the other. Women with outfits cut for whatever you might be thinking, though you're not much thinking of them.
If you found yourself drawn into these, then this book might be worth digging up in a library. If they leave you yawning, don't worry that you're missing great poetry. You're missing an interesting project that will suit certain minds, but I can't say this is great poetry. It did, however, intrigue me the first time through and I suspect it will again when I return to it years hence.