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Title: Boring and trite
Review: This book put me to sleep. It's dull, but it also feels fake, dependent on cliches and received ideas. The titles give a sense of what the poems are like: Plato, Bonnard, Rome, Montale, Wittgenstein, Miro, Bronzino, Bishop, Benjamin, Keats, flowers, plants, birds. There's nothing fresh here. It's exactly the kind of book that gives poetry a bad name. It makes you cringe.I don't understand why this kind of precious, privileged writing appears year after year, when there's so much that hasn't been written before. I also don't understand why poets like this one, who aren't devoid of intelligence or talent, don't write better poems. They may be polished, but polish isn't enough.
