A "Working Life"

“I wanted to say a ‘Working Life’ means the poems are the plan, not that this book is about labor exactly,” explains Myles (I Must Be Living Twice) at the end of this impressive collection of poems grounded in the mundane, which includes coffee and dogs. “It’s not that I have/ a purpose. It’s more/ like I don’t want/ you to think I don’t/ have one,” Myles writes. With just a few words per line, their poems move down the page quickly, the language dashed off and immediate, as though keeping pace with the poet’s mind. Some feel like shorthand entries in a diary: “I like the inexactness/ of cabs, the cash/ the entire ana/ log experience/ of them. The details/ of the Joe & Charlie/ visit is fading, I told/ him about lunch with Gail.” The poem “Put My House” is full of both beautiful nonsense and tender longing: “let me breathe/ inside you// let me smell// your guts// put your boat/ in my eye// let me eat/ your friends// put these hours/ inside your/ hours.” While at times, these poems can present as random and rapidly scribbled, there are rewards here for the readers who stick with them, revealing the joys of a life built out of thinking, dreaming, and making. (Apr.)