Publisher's Synopsis
Why should you buy this book of poetry instead of someone better known, like Mary Ruefle or Robert Frost? Because if you email me to ask what the blue curtains mean, I'll tell you. And won't that just impress all of our English teachers?
The peregrine dreams descend with their claws.
Under the coastline, all those skeletons sleeping so peacefully,
like Pompeii lovers crowded the floor.
You remember the days when the stars dripped
dropping the future into our ear?
The past lulls around behind us, and in our dreams,
we tiptoe right past the edge of that old mill and slip upwards.
Mine, they're all Pennsylvania skies.
