In the Absent Everyday

The strongest of this remarkable set of open-ended apostrophes are like "fingers without guile/ soft as a kitten's throat"—beautiful and foreboding at the same time, with lines that seem to disappear into the images they carry. Steely, mystical, engaged and emotionally charged, the diction that Tsering achieves in this second collection is uniquely her own, comprising a world where "all confirmation of life/ remains outside"—yet it remains. It's a style that draws from whatever currents—politico-economic, lyric, base taxonomic, Tibetan folkloric—serve its descriptions, which are finally "Words I use because I like who I become." Readily apparent influences include Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge, Barbara Guest, Bernadette Mayer and Rilke—and perhaps the photography of Justine Kurland. Finally as elusive as it is resolute ("fugitive and fulcrum," as one telling phrase puts it), and following on Rules of the House (2002), this book is deeply satisfying in its pointed ambiguity and angular clarity: "They looked for signs to disinter/ her needs. She was a yearling. They saw she liked yellow flowers/ in winter, talcum powder, and an occasional local whiskey." (June)