Having read an earlier collection by the poet, I thought this would be more of the same. What a shockeroo --when I first opened the book, it felt like someone had gone wild with a ticket puncher drilling holes of white through the black text of poetry. But there was a rhythm, a minimalist abstraction in the harmonious white space, and a quiet strength in how the words claimed their occupancy on the page. And so I felt guided by someone who had mastered a different modality, a Morse code of meaning to thrum sense from chaos.