I liked this, but not nearly as much as Manhire's collection Lifted, which I think I read last week. It's not my favourite collection of his, but I find when reading that there's the odd poem - more often, the odd verse within a poem - that really speaks to me. The first verse of the title poem "Milky Way Bar" is for me the finest of the book (and may be my favourite thing that Manhire's ever written; I want to copy it out and pin it to the wall above my desk for inspiration), but there's also the apologetic return of memory in "Brazil", the death and absence of "Phar Lap"...