The poet really means his title. This book was generated from an artist's model's intensely bodily experience of stillness, observed stillness at that. It is itself a series of brief, formally invariable stills that shine a light on occult links among memory fragments littered over generations of suffering. It is a kind of La Jetée in words. But words, it is still true to say, can do even more, and they can ask more of you. Reading these poems feels almost like writing poetry, and the poetry is of a seriousness and lightness that should inspire its readers to try the excellent and immortal game themselves. Good poetry is contagious, and this haunted, haunting sequence is good poetry." —Mary Baine Campbell