At first, the range of different voices and styles that Connolly takes on from poem to poem in “Revolver” dazzles and charms … and then it starts to exhaust the reader just a little bit. You just want him to settle down and really work any of those voices. They’re all good – all of them underpinned with a crisp, sardonic tone – but they start to verge on cacophonous. And then, by the fifth section or zone of the book (which does not, of course, correspond to the cheeky table of contents), it feels like Connolly hits a flat, smooth straightaway, right to the heart of the matter and the heart of the reader, culminating in the direct and disarming “Plenty.”

“Given the words in advance, it
might all be easier. Interpretation –
that’s where the problems start.
Take counterpane, for an example.
Sounds like a magician’s con,
a glass counter you’d bounce coins
off, but really it means something
comforting – a blanket to keep you warm.”