A rogue moose wanders into a suburb near Quebec city, tramples lawns and
gardens, stumbles in and out of a swimming pool, is tracked by three gun
toting heads of family who shoot it down just as a school bus goes by
wherein a little girl is trilling "Three Little Kittens." Thus begins
No Grave For This Place. Here "streets are landing strips / for planes
that will never arrive," the dead "descend / the steps of prefab houses
/ champagne flutes in their hands," and a pack of cats "throws itself on
the electric fences / surrounding our inner lives." Quinn's voice will
resonate with all those who have, by association or from experience,
tasted the cultural barrenness that can underlie civilized life.