I began writing the poems for this second collection almost immediately after having completed the work on the first volume. There is a sense in this book of finding a way forward with the unique form after having written 100 poems in it so recently. The work here, I think, becomes a little more personal and a shade more relaxed – even while finding new ways to make the language sing. The saddest poem I will ever write is Wild Sonnet #197, and it has its place near the close of this book.
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