"If McHugh is serious, she's anything but grim; with all her punning, bantering, and mock scolding of herself . . . she brightens the shadowy corners of her world with verbal pyrotechnics."-The New York Times Book Review "Her poems are open, resilient, invisibly twisted: part safety net, part trampoline."-Voice Literary Supplement This fast-paced, verbally dexterous book-honored as a "Book of the Year" by Publishers Weekly-"boils up and boils over" as it utilizes medical terminology and iconography to work through loss and detachment. Heather McHugh's startling rhymes and rhythms, coupled with her sarcastic self-reflection and infectious laughter, serve as both palliative and prophylactic in the face of human sufferings and ignorance. Being "upgraded to serious" from critical condition is a nod to the healing powers of poetry. "Not to Be Dwelled On" Self-interest cropped up even there, the day I hoisted three instead of the ceremonially called-for two spadefuls of loam onto the coffin of my friend. Why shovel more than anybody else? What did I think I'd prove? More love (mud in her eye)? More will to work? (her father what, a shirker?) Christ, what wouldn't anybody give to get that gesture back? She cannot die again; and I do nothing but re-live. Heather McHugh is the author of a dozen books of poetry and translation. She teaches at the University of Washington and Warren Wilson College and lives in Seattle, Washington.