“Wild with imagination, unafraid, ambitious, inventive, stitched to perfection by a formal genius that recalls the quirkily perfect forms (and tones) of Marianne Moore, Revolver is a perpetual motion machine in which time, history, matter, and a profound tenderness for the made world knot, rush, pleat, unfurl...What an embroidery, what a flawless understanding of gravity. There is not a poem in this collection that does not amaze. As with Worth—and worthy of being its successor—this is a work of profound daring, written by a spirit deeply aware of the ultimate cost of beauty, and the endless human thirst for, and dependence upon, surfaces—historical, lyric, material, and emotional.”—Jorie Graham
"I love that it is impossible to predict the paths of the poems in Revolver. Schiff’s footwork is utterly unfamiliar in its combinations—curtsey, kick, pirouette. Rabbit hole, revolving door, detour. Facts (from the tiny sugar pistols on Elizabeth Colt’s cake to the Chinese name for Asian Longhorned Beetles) have never been so faceted, so fantastic. And these details are matched—if not surpassed—by a ferocity of feeling, '…who would not kiss the head of a swan / just to try to memorize / the softness of something wild?'"—Matthea Harvey
"This book springs from an imagination and vocabulary so surprising and intriguing that, in many poems, every line is a revelation."—Publisher's Weekly