The 50 Best American Poetry Books of the Decade so Far


Brenda Shaughnessy, Our Andromeda (Copper Canyon, 2012)

In this collection, which imagines Andromeda as a utopia, Shaughnessy wears death like lace. From “Liquid Flesh”:

In a light chocolatine room
with blackout windows,
a loud clock drowns in soft dawn’s

syllables, crisscrossed
with a broken cloudiness
I’d choose as my own bedcovers

but cannot. My choice of sleep
or sky has no music of its own.
There’s no “its own” while the baby cries.