Hagiography

In a style that regularly pushes life's barely hidden strangeness into the light, Jen Currin's poems present thought as a bright, emotionally complex event, a place where mind and sense and the natural world they move through become indistinguishable elements in a mysterious human drama. There are no saints in this hagiography – only ghosts, sisters, spiders, birds. This is an anti-biography. It starts with death and ends with birth. In between: life after life.