What marvelous poems these are, and how complete a collection. Like a circus aerialist who makes us gasp one moment and laugh the next, the poet takes us from her immigrant father's Macedonian roots to her own maturity, to the life of a woman who is smart and well-read yet knows her way around a Coney Island hot dog and finds the attentions of a drunk cowboy oddly flattering. There are so many good poems here that it's hard to pick a favorite, but I'll put my money on "Confessions of an Ugly Nightgown," in which a dead woman's shapeless article of intimate apparel says it can still rouse a sleeping husband and is loveliest as it lies on the floor.
-David Kirby, Get Up, Please
-David Kirby, Get Up, Please
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