The Milk Hours

Winner of the Max Ritvo Poetry Prize: A “luminous [and] memorable” debut that searches widely to ask what it means to exist in a state of loss ( Publishers Weekly ). “We lived overlooking the walls overlooking the cemetery.” So begins the title poem of this collection, whose recursive temporality is filled with living, grieving things, punctuated by an unseen world of roots, bodies, and concealed histories. Like a cemetery, too, The Milk Hours sets unlikely neighbors alongside each other: Hegel