The first verb in SB Stokes’ magnum opus, A History of Broken Love Things, is wanna. He is a poet of hope, expectation, and desire, which prepare us for the erratic path of lifeas it is actually lived: a large weepy beast, /a guy with some hats, / a stark-raging husband, /an ineffectual queen. In the beautifully titled poem, dark magick / a solitude by duke, he writes, The piano pounds its own heart into bits. But even desolation offers its glittering souvenir. Read this book and prepare to have your life lifted, your heart broken.Paul Hoover, editor of Postmodern American Poetry