This volume was my introduction to Icelandic poetry. Soulful, cool, in touch with the land.
Little screams flutter by
like so much cash at Christmas.
On the cold, creaking merry-go-round,
murder by centripetal force planned.
The walnut trees tsk.
Beneath the candy canes
doing flex time for the traffic lights,
melting slush with
the impression of honesty
imprinted by every boot over the crosswalk.
One of my favorite books of poetry. The persona poems in this book come from so many perspectives.