This first full-length volume draws from poems written over roughly ten years: prose sequences, sonnets or thereabouts, parody-homages, a metro poem, psychical collaborations, and drawn from small-print chapbooks. Combining a condensed lyricism, collage, and durational procedures, the collection works its way through days and the everyday (near accidents, a working salad, the assumptions of architecture)... The sense of fleeting glimpse, of provisionality, of actual sense-data taken in but not yet possessed, is terrific. Is it 'lyric'? Well, yes--but with a stylistic affiliation to Projective and subsequent aesthetics. And no--in the sense that Wright does not seek that laurel or that identification.