Danielle Zaccagnino's genius is for collage, in poem, essay, and lyrical hybrid. And it is genius. "I don't have [a philosophy of fragmentation]," she writes, "or at least don't think I do.  It just feels right." As Zaccagnino's youthful persona negotiates "a broken world," she forges an answerable self, and her kinetic wit recalls that of Bill Knott and Lorrie Moore. Her writing is consistently lived, honest, and inspired, as suggested by titles such as "Edibles: A Primer," "Now When I Hear Body Farm," and "Touch, and a Fracturing," and such lines as "constantly practice/distortion of perspective" or "everyone is someone I've met before/ and I didn't like them the first time."

—DeWitt Henry, author of Sweet Marjoram, Notes and Essays