Favorite lines:

where stage blood or sunlight

fills the hundreds of clear jellyfish splayed along the beach

(from “In the Golden Age of Counterfeiting)

&

Each night on the terrace where crows pick locks,

I paint my little crow gold, and it sings my new favorite

part and we go for a spin in a a good gear

(from “Whirl”)

&

The dog takes the leash in his mouth. A bottle rocket lay in the snow. A canary lay in the snow. I dreamt my father, uncle, brother were throwing pies at a bear. But there’s no pie in the ivy. No snowball in the sentence. No teeth coming down.

(from “IV. Exit [If the Blind Need Nudging:]”)

The one about the jellyfish is particularly right. I walk by jellyfish every morning on the Potomac. They’re all smudged up on the beach with that weird reddish brain. It looks like they were just tossed there like junk.  I will read more of this when I can.