Imagine a monastery without religion , where secular monksgather throughout each day to sing... but for what? Toward what? With no god incommon, about what? What would their days be like? What would the prayers soundlike? Think of this book of poems as an agnostic hymnal, a series ofsupplications to nobody and to nothing but vague and restless hope shouted, whispered, and groaned. It is arranged as a Book of Hours, with prayers aimed into the void for every moment of every day...