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Damned good poetry, difficult as hell, but rich and vital and urgent. I finished the last poem MOTHER'S HANDS DRAWING ME listening to Public Image Ltd. and it made the cruelest sense. A kind of rage and nihilism seemed to erupt from the this final work that suggested she has some inkling of the final darkness awaiting us all. She's seen in the waning light of the eyes of her closest kin the mad throes of a system cannibalizing on itself, a system that thinks eternity can be fooled. But of course, it can't. Jorie knows we all hang by a thread, this little planet on some invisible string zipping across millennia in its nanosecond of joy. Exhilarated with realization. Deep beautiful work. But scary as shit. Read this. Marvel.