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Poetry. "In these lean, expansive, wonderful poems, language is a long nervous filament feeling along thought—Beckett or Woolf gone maximally internal and grand. A narrative of interiority, already multiple, already doubled against itself, now and now casting forth, seeking a firm connection to the outside, swept back tidally, resisting. A trenchant diagnosis of an un-ease constitutional and productive and common to all of us."—Catherine Wagner