"A young man jilted by his steady hits the meatend of his Louisville Slugger against a tree over and over again; on the very day her mother dies, a man's wife bakes bread as perfect as her mother's and he wonders if her mother somehow realized her bread was equaled, "meaning that her time was up"; a teenager at the movies lusts for Betty Grable to the point that "I ache so much not even my popcorn can cover or reduce it"; Tub Schmidt, "the huge and invincible," has a spider captive in a mason jar and "he is going to study it, he says / until he becomes himself / the consummate means by which / to catch the fly"; and a man buys a radio at an antique store and half expects it "will play only what it cut its / massive mahogany teeth on, / Tom Mix and Terry and the Pirates, / Jack Armstrong and the Lone Ranger." Kloefkorn, the state poet of Nebraska, writes about the familiar, the experiences we all share while we are going out and coming back, and transforms everyday activities and thoughts into significant acts and clarifies the existence of the past within the present in poems that explore the timeless range of human emotion."--BOOK JACKET.
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