Brown's mastery of form and language is something else. These poems are so sharp, so precise, they cut such a fine, sure line, right through the heart. I had to read each one many times over, once or twice to just let it sink in, and another time or two to take in all the layers and rhythms. This is the sort of poetry I wish I'd been able to find in high school, when I was falling in love with poetry. In many ways, it's formal. There's an economy of language that I associate with the very best poetry; every word has weight. But it's poetry of the present moment. Brown is writing about queerness and Black identity and desire and the ways bodies move around in the world. It's ordinary, horrifying, ordinary life stuff. It's vital. His work is playful but restrained. I'm not good at describing poetry, so I'm rambling, but this collection is masterful. I could read it over and over and over.

The 'duplex' poems--a form Brown invented himself that combines the sonnet, the ghazal and the blues--are especially remarkable. I got chills reading them.