new book is dominated by 14-line poems, but his sonnetlike form doesn't always have the conventional sonnet's plotting turns or developed conceits. Rather, the poems possess a sonnet's precarious balance, and many have a sonnet ending's surprise, as in these final lines: "Sometimes, the paralysis of a soul awakens it. Sometimes/awful things have their own kind of beauty;" or this aching conclusion to a lament for a friend who has committed suicide, "Jesus,/I miss him. Why did his eyes have no veils?/Why was the salt of wisdom no good to him?"Adding to the formal consistency of the book, animals make frequent visits.
from Houston Chronicle: Henri Cole's new poetry collection, Touch
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