Poetry. I want to scream why no one asked me--/ how it comes to be I am blown aside/ by the mere suggestion of flight, by a wing/ contrived from the resin of flowers,/ by Gabriel's flurry, the flux of his silent rape (Joseph Speaks His Mind). Eve Wood's new collection of poems takes the harshness and disappointments of the day-to-day world and revitalizes them with a language that is equally at home in discussions of history and pornography, nature and linguistics.