An orig­i­nal, inven­tive – and visu­al­ly stun­ning – explo­ration of place, iden­ti­ty, lan­guage, and expe­ri­ence from the acclaimed poet, nov­el­ist, and sound per­former. GRIF­FIN POET­RY PRIZE WIN­NER QWF A.M. KLEIN PRIZE FOR POET­RY FINAL­IST The poems in Kaie Kel­lough’s third col­lec­tion drift between South and North Amer­i­ca. They seek their ances­try in George­town, Guyana, in the Ama­zon Rain­for­est, and in the Atlantic Ocean. They haunt the Cana­di­an Prairie. They recall the 1980s in the sub­urbs of Cal­gary, and they reflect on the snowed-in, bricked-in bor­oughs of post-ref­er­en­dum Mon­tréal. They puz­zle their lan­guage togeth­er from the nat­ur­al world and from the works of Caribbean and Cana­di­an writ­ers. They reassem­ble pas­sages about seed cat­a­logues, about ori­gins, about find­ing a way in the world, about black ships sail­ing across to land. They strug­gle to explain a state of being hemi­sphered, of being present here while car­ry­ing a heart­beat from else­where, and they map the dis­tances travelled.