And: Poems

Greger uncovers an onomatopoeic reality in virtually every verb she usesbob, or scream, or rip, or rage; in her poetry, the sounds of words directly evoke the feelings they describe. She also uses a high and otherworldly diction that is not often found in prose. Hers is the authoritative voice that speaks from dreams, where anything can happen, and all at once. In ""Piranesi in L.A.,'' the Roman artist becomes the presiding spirit for a modern city he never saw; in ``Tristan on Radio,'' the music is transformed into a gloved hand reaching down from the dress circle to resubmerge a toy ship. All that's missing from Greger's luxuriance is the old prosaic quality of directnesssmall sacrifice for such riches as these. November