In Which I Play the Runaway

Poetry. Winner of the Barrow Street Press Poetry Prize. ‘I was born with a gift for gall and grit, ’ Rochelle Hurt writes–a line that echoes through every poem in this collection. She spares nothing and bares all that needs baring about family, place, and relationships–how they reflect each other, blurred in tarnished mirrors. With a Sylvia Plath-like abandon and urgency, every single word feels completely necessary; words spoken with a vigor and honesty that are felt in the gut; words that remain lodged in the back of the throat. –Richard Blanco