This attentively crafted collection of poetry straddles a fine line between self-awareness and self-absorption, but more than once tips into navel gazing that excludes or repels rather than welcomes the reader. This recent winner of the Canadian portion of the 2009 Griffin Poetry Prize is forgiven its ponderous lapses, however, when it redeems itself with the wry humour and crisp observations of poems such as “Busman’s Honeymoon”. Who can’t help but feel included in the universal experience of waiting for, being frustratingly passed by and joining in the communal experience of riding a bus?

“it streaks through storm, now flashing Not In Service
from its radiant forehead, polluted and obscured
by splattered mud, till it can reach its station

and help to ease the overflow of us
waiting in anger. Then we all barge in
and improbably improve the poetry of the bus.”