Everyday mindreading, a house full of Buddhas, and the papaya scent of the soul. An interview with Custer at a place of his choosing, “probably a steakhouse.” The ability of dogs to smell the uncool.

Hitler's barber imagines what might have been if only he'd leaned his weight into the razor. An oblivious Coronado narrowly avoids an ambush on the American plains. Freud lecherously lifts the skirt of a Mexican housekeeper who has far too much work to be bothered by “a pillar of modern thought. Or just some dirty old man.”

In lesser hands such disparate elements might fly wildly out of control. But in David Shumate's understated, brilliant prose poems, they come together in miraculously vivid riffs.

The narrator of the title poem rhapsodizes, “I wouldn't mind seeing another good flood before I die. It's been dry for decades. Next time I think I'll just let go and drift downstream and see where I end up.” Shumate's deft and refreshing collection takes us to amazing places with its plainspoken meditations.

This is the first book in the Pitt Poetry Series by this popular and enigmatic poet, considered the foremost writer of prose poetry in America. In eleven collections over thirty years, Edson has created his own poetic genre, a surreal philosophical fable, easy to enter, but difficult to leave behind. In The Tormented Mirror, Edson continues and refines his form in seventy-three new poems.

You Can Tell the Horse Anything is a debut collection of prose poems that explores the many manifestations of longing-true love, spiritual redemption, a good night’s sleep, the list is long and varied. Using humor and lyricism, they give voice to an array of animals as well as human characters who inhabit the sometimes rocky terrain between the common place and the absurd. Ultimately, these poems — these tightly packed mini-dramas — are microcosms of our own everyday lives. They challenge our sense of self, our sense of belonging and comfort. They ask us to tread carefully in a world that is easily turned on its side. Yet, ironically, they also encourage us to be hopeful, to realize that solace and small joy can be found talking to a horse or raising worms on a moonlit mountain.