Lay Me Low

Imaginative scenarios, bizarre details, outrageous lies, and the unhinged demands of eccentric speakers form a pleasantly anarchic universe in Cheney's debut collection. His rambling style is replete with run-on thoughts and occasional inversions of syntax that render the ordinary lyrical: "By the condemned mall they sell Christmas trees." Cheney's narrators struggle with "Art People Problems," aggressive waterproofing salesmen wandering in off the street, and a "lifetime ban from the lighthouse." The title poem's speaker enumerates his elaborate postmortem wishes, including that his girlfriend "go through an insanely social period in/ her life/ where she goes to all these BBQs that she wasn't invited to." "Gaps of Learning" exhibits typical Cheney logic when the speaker punctuates the memory of vandalizing a telephone pole and being caught by a birdwatcher with the self-assured "I think we can all relate." The standout "Customs in Japan" contends that it is a cultural tradition for the bride's dog to be stolen on the eve of her wedding and "If someone calls to return her dog/ It is considered a sign of successful coupling." Cheney's poetry shuffles through identities, settings, and events with breakneck speed and psychedelic whimsy; it makes for a carnivalesque atmosphere, and while readers may not want to live there, it is worth a visit. (Apr.)