Similarly four complete poetry books and a selection of new poems and sequences-samples the ongoing project of C. S. Giscombe’s long, long song of location and range. In all the work collected here, location is a practice; range is the fact of the serial, the figuring of continuous arrival.

The writing speaks to rivers, the souls of city life, animals, the counted and uncounted, the many instances that might indicate a shape to all that sound, monstrosity and argument (the latter defined, with a hat-tip to Frankenstein, as a thing that becomes terrifying to its maker ), and the colors of human migration, these things among others. In the Cry Me a River poem, Giscombe writes, for the sake of argument, say that the shape of a region or of some distinct areas of a city could stand in for memory and that it-the shape is a specific value because it’s apparent and public, and that way achieves an almost nameless contour.