Scott Owens describes his new volume of poetry: "I grew up in two worlds: my father's parents' world of brick homes, city streets, shopping, and playgrounds; and my mother's parents' world of dirt roads, livestock, growing our own food, and endless woods. That second world was undeniably harder than the first. The work was dirtier, and there was more of it. The homes had fewer luxuries: no cable, no AC, never more than one bathroom. Even death was different. In town, death was a polished event that took place elsewhere: hospitals, nursing homes, slaughter houses, funeral parlors. On the...