The poems in this collection reach for something other than truth, for the miraculous. Leaves fall from cloak sleeves, Gandhi swims in the Burrard Inlet. The poems are like empty coats from which the inhabitants have recently escaped, leaving behind images as a key to their identity. There are jumps between the logics within the poems and it is these illogical spaces where everything comes together, like when the conductor's baton is raised at the beginning of a piece of music, where, as Arvo Pärt put it, the potential of the whole exists.
Eve Joseph turns her focus back to poetry in this amazing and condensed work of prose poems.