August 2

And I'm Sorry You're Being Such a Pain by Jessy Randall

Julie: Snerk. Okay, so my mother isn't really like this, but if you combine all of my female relatives, you get something pretty darned close. Except my cat is bigger. My cat is always bigger. Randall obviously has a skill for this sly sort of voice, and I enjoyed.

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Either/Or by Gail Segal

Julie: I hate when I can't figure out at least what a poet is trying to do, and I couldn't here. Which means that the poem can't do much for me. It's like going to Lowe's and looking at all the tools. They may be neat, but they just sit there and stare at me.

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Danielle Suite by Albert Goldbarth

Julie: This is a dense, quicksilver poem, with beautiful lines butting up against staid, flashing images struggling with nondescript reportage. If I poked at it, separating the sheep from the goats, I don't think I'd end up with a better poem (two poems). The prosaic lines anchor the lofty ones. Everything is pulling its own weight.