“Over and over again, these poems shape the tensions that arise from Stevens' 'ever restless mind' and the world around us . . . Only the human speaker asks 'what is one to do' on a perfectly beautiful night when a fern 'rooted at the road's edge/casts the shadow of an infant's ribs.' 'No Comment,' the title of this collection's first poem, is Forhan's wonderfully wry answer . . . Thankfully, Chris Forhan cannot hold his tongue, and, in the poems that follow-often lit by a playful sense of humor and a voice that is truly engaging-he creates a landscape that is both intensely physical and replete with the age-old questions.” -- From the Foreword