Continuing the western tradition of "bastard ghazals" that do not hold to the form or intent of the 13th
century Sufi mystics who wrote of religious devotion and erotic longing, these poems are collages
tracing a route at the edges of suburban houses filled with doppelganger children, county jails and
flophouse hotels, Sonny Liston and Geechie Wiley, Maurice Sendak and the Lindburgh baby, Philip
Guston, Willie Bobo, recidivist airline stowaways, and the numinous messages left between the clouds
and garbage dumpsters.
These poems breathe in a space framed by psychoanalyst Michael Eigen: "We are part of one great
paradoxical monism, a wholeness that thrives on fragmentary processes, bits and pieces throbbing with
significance," and the poet Charles Simic, "The poem is an attempt at self-recovery, self-recognition,
self-remembering, the marvel of being again... A poem is a piece of the unutterable whole."
