“Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?” Whitman challenged his readers. In this bracing, audacious, dialogical collection, James Berger takes up the question with a sly, ironic wit that interrogates the idea of poetics and subjects his own assumptions and biases to a ruthless and delightfully honest self-critique. Many poets will see their own agon reflected here. “My project is to slog/ my mortality in the dried vein// of lyric, and to claim// at last my incapacity// as my own.” Yet this is not a poetry of exhaustion, but of self-renewing vitality: Yeats’ foul rag and bone shop or Manny Faber’s termite art, restless, eating away at its own boundaries. Subversive and disarming, Berger charts his development as a poet with humor and panache. It makes for one hell of a ride. Patrick Pritchett . With the contemporary poetry world’s modernist-hangover obsession with “projects,” it’s fairly unusual to find a book, like this one, that is uniformly delightful. The levity of Berger’s poetry, however, is not unserious: it grapples with the puzzles that plague us all as poets and as human beings. It’s filled with personal revelations, direct address, relatable moments, and a ludic, lexically attentive sensibility further leavened with charming notes of self-deprecation. Berger claims in his intro that this book isn’t an ars poetica, but isn’t every poem ever composed a de facto artifact of a poet’s answer to the question: how to make a poem? If that question imbues your own “project,” and if institutional answers to it make you roll your eyes, you will love this book.Nada Gordon. I can't decide if Jim Berger is the most sincere poet in America or the most recent incarnation of that ultimate Jewish trickster, Bugs Bunny, or a Whitman touched in the head by Groucho Marx. That's his particular superpower—he is naive, sentimental, thoughtful, cagey and direct. I know of few poets so intent on "making the obvious evident," He’ll tell you himself, "I'm a fucking deep motherfucking poet." And he is! But that’s just the starting point. David Kaufman