Thanks for your comments, Candy and Rob. I am especially intrigued by these lines:

As though to come right up
against that which is not you.

I particular liked this stanza myself:

Likewise beside me, the knitting missionary
on the subway train forgives my bag against him.

This poet has a nice way with words, I put the book on my to-read list (of doom!).

-Rob

Oh I laughed at the line "I touch you and leave you alone like white pepper."

Written like a foodie! Fun.

The knitting missionary says a lot about the person on subway too doesn't it?

I have been engrossed in reading Amy King's collection of poems entitled I'm the Man Who Loves You (BlazeVOX Books 2007). Vignettes draw us in only to veer out of view. The language pops, then slashes, and odd images appear from nowhere. It's good stuff.

Here's a sample:

Slightly-Parted Thighs

The bourbon won't let me sleep,
my pedagogical rose.

I touch you and leave you
alone like white pepper.

As though to come right up
against that which is not you.

Abut or adrift, dovetail moonshine:
I enjoy the burning eyes in somber words.

Likewise beside me, the knitting missionary
on the subway train forgives my bag against him.

And I am back at it, bluebelted noon, attitude
of sight, confession where a coat stands slack.

(Quoted by permission.)