There is a winning gentleness and humanity to the "voice" in most of the poems in this book (so two stars instead of one), but they too often cross the line into a very soft-hearted and headed kind of pop-song sentimentality. I've seen this in many books by inexperienced younger poets these days--the assumption of a kind of deliberate naivety that allows one to appear to live in a state of constant amazement, to drift--sometimes meaningfully, sometimes not--between images, ideas and statements without really latching onto and developing anything. The method is largely random, and when something interesting is said it usually occurs from pure luck. For me, this book doesn't really stand out from the numerous other post-New York school collections by a myriad of others. The previous reviewer who called the poem's borders "cloudlike" is right on--but there's really nothing difficult or ultimately interesting about drifting around in a haze. I see little precision, discipline or intellectual force backing up these amorphously constructed parcels of prose--they're as sweet and unthreatening as cotton candy. But on a brighter note, I did like the humanity of the voice and would read another book by this author--with the hope that the "borders" might become a bit more defined and the poems more rigorously constructed.