This is a work of seething precision. --Traci Brimhall.
I am enchanted by this book, in its thrall, its bright gravity, its terribilitá.
These poems are smart and lush, and at the end of each of them my heart, mind, and ear argue over which was lavished with the most pleasure.
A helix of histories lies threaded to both the present day and the various magics of night. --Caroline Bird In Maya Catherine Popa\'s You Always Wished the Animals Would Leave, feathers are unfulfilled parables, a hen\'s eggs turn a vicious red, and a super moon blooms a tyranny of flowers.
By stitching her raging images together with stillness and poise, Popa asks us to step back from our panic and look: peeling back the hair, that quiet, necessary artifice, / to reveal a nesting doll of impulses.
In these poems, hope is a meticulous, meditative state--a method of forensic searching and study that is carried with great care across generations.
This is a work of seething precision
