Except for, perhaps, a little reservation about subject matter (for example, a poem about a hanged man with a death erection), this would be a good recommendation for a young person who needs to know that poetry can be fundamentally fun. McHugh’s poems often seem to be constructed in the same spirit that prevails when creating the crossword puzzle for the London Times. E.g. “My one/ and only: money/ minus one…” Words tremulously cling to their meanings, despite being deconstructed into some pretty curious contortions – “all history was fast repast, rewined, redowned!” There’s a bunch of sonic smackdowns, internal rhyme reminders, and consequential consonances – a thorough dismantling of staple words just off the shelf. Plus some formidable metaphors – as when a Fourth of July display is described as “practice / for an aneurysm.” My favorites include two poems called “songs for scientists”: one a meditation on the brain collection at Cornell University, the other an attempt to translate birdcalls into demotic English. ( )

Heather McHugh is a master of the word in this book. She can follow all of the associations of a word (both literal and punning) and make them all work. I particularly admire her work for being able to be serious and funny at the same time. ( )