This collection of poems starts strange and ends strange. Strange, in this case, is not a pejorative. Rather, these poems try to capture a hunk of the creative mind at work when the impetus for expression is familiar and ultimately its own mechanism for repulsion. These poems sometimes are set in Baltimore, the rural community of childhood, or inside a marble. To these poems, the idiomatic and the colloquial are more relevant than the elevated. Language sets tone and acts as stabilizer in what is, hopefully, a shaky and divot-filled mindscape.