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Idiosyncratic and memorable, Gibson's poetry will reward readers even through its moments of anguish: "If we belong to anything in the universe,/ it's to our own music."
Idiosyncratic and memorable, Gibson’s poetry will reward readers even through its moments of anguish: “If we belong to anything in the universe,/ it’s to our own music.”
Best described as inconsistent, the poems here are caught quite severely between two styles—clear narrative (think Tony Hoagland) and epigrammatic phraseology (think Dean Young)—and to the disappointment of the reader finally settle on neither.