Alex Kilgore’s new book of poetry won’t stop holding my heart.
The poet’s voice carries out a rigorously gentle interrogation of the natural world (with a seemingly infinitely regressive attention to structural progression) often seeking through meditations on music & its elusive-yet-concrete capacity to communicate to memory, a voice or series of voices of body-out-of-body, calling as from the wilderness
–& the result is small. Personal. Intimate. A book to hold.