Comic, elegaic, and always formally intricate, using political allegory and painterly landscape, philosophic story and dramatic monologue, these poems describe a moment when something marvelous and unforeseen alters the course of a single day, a year, or an entire life.

Explores the strange and intricate mechanics of human systems-of the body, of thought, of language itself. These are the engines, like poetry, that propel both our comprehension and misunderstanding. "If you're lucky, " Harvey writes, "after a number of / revolutions, you'll / feel something catch."

In a starred review Publishers Weekly raves: "It’s an avant-garde, surrealist story with a Hollywood-style tearjerker lurking within—and a surprisingly charming and affecting one at that." Award-winning poet Matthea Harvey and illustrator extraordinaire Giselle Potter team up to create an indescribably unique picture book about wanting to be normal, then coming to appreciate being different. Ruby would love to be like everyone else—not easy when you have a tiara-wearing mother and a father who spends his time trimming outrageous topiary. She'd also like to get a nice normal pet, maybe a dog. Then, on a family vacation to Norway, she finds herself adopted by a small, affectionate glacier. How Cecil, as the ice pet is named, proves himself to Ruby—risking his own meltdown—is a story sure to thrill and delight young readers.

This expanded edition adds sixteen new exercises designed to inspire creativity and help poets hone their skills. Each exercise includes a clearly-stated learning objective, historical background matter on the particular subgenre being explored, and an example written by undergraduates at Western Kentucky University. The text also analyzes work by leading American poets including Billy Collins, Denise Duhamel and Dean Young. The book's five chapters correspond with the five canons of classical rhetoric: invention, arrangement, style, memory, and delivery.

A brilliant combination of poetry and visual artwork by Matthea Harvey, whose vision is "nothing short of blazingly original" (Time Out New York) She didn't even know she had a name until one day she heard the human explaining to another one, "Oh that's just the backyard mermaid." "Backyard Mermaid," she murmured, as if in prayer. On days when there's no sprinkler to comb through her curls, no rain pouring in glorious torrents from the gutters, no dew in the grass for her to nuzzle with her nose, not even a mud puddle in the kiddie pool, she wonders how much longer she can bear this life. The front yard thud of the newspaper every morning. Singing songs to the unresponsive push mower in the garage. Wriggling under fence after fence to reach the house four down which has an aquarium in the back window. She wants to get lost in that sad glowing square of blue. Don't you? —from "The Backyard Mermaid" Prose poems introduce deeply untraditional mermaids alongside mer-tool silhouettes. A text by Ray Bradbury is erased into a melancholy meeting with a Martian. The Michelin Man is possessed by William Shakespeare. Antonio Meucci's invention of the telephone is chronicled next to embroidered images of his real and imagined patents. If the Tabloids Are True What Are You? combines Matthea Harvey's award-winning poetry with her fascinating visual artwork into a true hybrid book, an amazing and beautiful work by one of our most ingenious creative artists.

The verse and prose poems of this third collection by Harvey shows her signature wit (the factory puffs its own set of clouds), darkened by an ominous sense of fearfulness in a post-9/11 world, which the poems' seeming levity tries to combat. The backbone of the collection is a pair of sequences titled The Future of Terror and Terror of the Future, that explore those two increasingly loaded words using a clever alphabetical system with haunting results: We were just a gumdrop on the grid. Prose poems bookending the sequences present a fable about a lonely robot (When Robo-Boy feels babyish, he has the option of really reverting); a study of appetite (Ma gave Dinna' Pig his name so that no-one would forget where that pig was headed); an explanation of how the impossibility of mind-reading led to love (Even when they press their ears or mouths or noses together, the skull wall is still in the way); and an unlikely dinner ritual (rip the silhouette from the sky and drag it inside). A few short, lineated poems punctuate the blocks of prose: World, I'm no one/ to complain about you.

Sarah Manguso’s first collection, a combination of verse and prose poems, explores love, nostalgia, remorse, and the joyful and mysterious preparation for the discoveries of new lands, selves, and ideas. The voice is consistently spare, honest, understated, and eccentric.