The collected poems of Sina Queyras's Teethmarks
(Nightwood Editions, $16) sprawl across the space of the book
like clothes scattered across the floor of a messy room. You can
enter, pick something up, hold it up to your chest, and see if
you like it. Queyras welcomes you into the room of a poem where
"on aubergine linen we lounge, full/prow and longing for
something hard/and easy: palm on palm we/are dreaming each other
in leather". She asks you to make yourself comfortable.