It took me some time to find my way into this collection. It’s all angles. It seemed ripe for the comment that what’s most important is what is between the lines, left unsaid. (Someone once said this about the Dylan song, “Rosemary, Lily, and the Jack of Hearts,” and I still haven’t figured out what they meant or what the song means.) But somewhere in the middle of the collection, around “The Earthquake in this Case Was,” a door seemed to open for me. I think Bang is exploring the small moments, the moments of uncertainty between pretense and reality – a dichotomy that poetry itself explores. I’d love to unpack these poems with someone, but reading poetry is so / too often such a solitary act.