The dead should come back changed, or what's the point? Why do you hide your head beneath the bedclothes? Doesn't everyone name themselves? Is your house a bottle? Are you trapped in there? Isn't it nice to be this close to someone? Can we go back to our notes? Please? Urgent, witty, and unnervingly beautiful, Oscar Upperton's first collection takes familiar language and makes it uncanny. Suns detach. The ocean climbs a mast. Someone forgets where their haunted house is. These poems are vitally human and consoling; they reframe the ordinary as something to yearn for.