In Versions of May we are pushed from our present moments "forward into other histories, / no sights, no path, no guide." Every poem is a little trip, visiting cathedrals, temples, tombs, battlefields, forests, and creeks, and with every stop, there is an opportunity to "delete our presence here, and free us from/ ourselves." What comes after we are gone charts the pulse of this collection. When the poet communes with his troubled heroes - Lou Reed, Miles Davis, Jim Morrison, and many more - we have fleeting moments of understanding that are easy and pure, just like "pouring light into a suitcase." And in the spirit of passing it on, passing it down, passing it forward, we are given hope that the greats that came before us can hear us and that when we die, we'll all "become the chords." With both vastness and precision, Jim Murphy peers between the notes for the universal mysteries that happen when you are looking the other way.

-Elizabeth Hughey, Author of White Bull