Hooked Through studies violence--of suicide, of nature, of our "possum heart," of our "last days." Anything can destroy, deconstruct, or devour the body--teeth, tongues, bullets, bugs, the sun--and the body grows, hatches, disappears and transforms into jerking flesh on a hook or fingers into stems or a spine into a tree or bones into "a single word." And yet the speaker, while forcibly fragmented, survives and is able to discern the smallest beauty like the outline of a wing, birds leaving an "empty chest," a pretty "sliver of sky" that can be fed on. When I read Sara Moore Wagner's...