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If you have luckily found yourself with this book in your hands, don't relinquish it until you have read every word (twice) and put it safely in bag to take with you always. These poems do this: they make you want them. As Hughey tells us, "Quivering/ can be much better than flowering." But these poems do both: quiver and flower. Part ancient lullaby and dream, these poems echo Dara Wier, Gertrude Stein, and Frank O'Hara to move into their own space of grand beauty. A space where "Soap bubbles, the ornaments/ of a morning, float in the wait," where you can "Hear the drone of electric razors...