""'On a day fresh as a haircut' writes Beth Roberts, 'I left the family for the field. / I looked hard for the body.' This is a book of setting out, of looking for the body--familial, sexual, spiritual, poetic--from which we were somehow, long ago, severed. These poems inhabit, unflinchingly, the "invented and inflicted holes" of a consciousness that is by turns grieving, ironic, self-lacerating, celebratory. Roberts' faith in the renovating powers of lyric tradition is as anxious as it is necessary. This book is gorgeous and true." (Mark Levine)"--