Poetry. Even all by themselves, the titles of Patricia Lockwood's poems
reveal the sort of surreal, enigmatic, rhetorically elongated world her
sensibility inhabits effortlessly: "When We Move Away from Here, You'll
See a Clean Square of Paper Where His Picture Hung," "The Cartoon's
Mother Builds a House in Hammerspace," "The Front Half and the Back Half
of a Horse in Conversation," "Children with Lamps Pouring out of Their
Foreheads," and the inimitable "Killed with an Apple Corer, She Asks
What Does That Make Me."