The most solitary poems, the ones that take the speaker for a walk through a city or down a dirt path, through a churchyard or a garden, always remind one of how important it is to spend time alone, getting to know your own universe.

Brewer investigates how drug use has ravaged a community and the lives of users, enablers, and those fortunate enough to have survived.

Much of the difficulty in relating our perceptions of the world has to do with naming, and it has always been this way.

No matter how many hours we may be chained to our office chair, no matter our posture in it, or how Sisyphusean our work life may seem, our imagination is a small and gleeful subversion taking place under the glare of the office gods.

Xu’s politics are more apparent than those of some other poets, adding satisfying layers to the work, and handling the tension of multilingualism in thrilling ways.