Poetry.
LISTENER bristles with disquiet, its lines a disquisition on the existential situation of the person who listens so hard to himself, 'I found everything / Felt like my head.
' Emerging from 'The empty moment before my face surfaces / Before I find I've started the whole thing again, ' these poems never escape knowing 'Here I am.
I'm no place new, ' but they go on to make of thought such an affable trap that we enjoy the sound of it snapping shut on us, too.
Each poem makes play out of.
