"John Surowiecki uses Stevens' titles as a bird might use the tip of a branch, to spring more effortlessly into flight. These poems are finely nuanced meditations and lyric evocations. The Stevens title may remain as a wind that inflects the course of the poem which follows, but Surowiecki is clearly steering these poems to his own will and whim. The memories, the people, the daily incidents and accidents are all Surowiecki's, all rendered with graceful phrasings and the profound engagement of a poet who knows "what thoughts have escaped him / and flown away—fly away still— / never rooted in speech." —James Finnegan, former Poetry Editor, The Wallace Stevens Journal Wallace Stevens looms large. Yet "his river was never quite ours," Surowiecki asserts, and goes on to present a different Connecticut, a state of 'sidewalk milkweeds', city buses, shadowy bars, and—most gloriously—ordinary, everyday people. These poems step out from Stevens's shadow and dazzle us with their light. —Shelley Puhak, author of Harbinger, a 2021 National Poetry Series selection."—