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A jolt of the glorious quotidian, startling moves and rhythms make Blue Rain Morning one of the best books of the season. A terrific persona of "elfin detachment" charts these poems, a sure foot down the avenues. You get in their stride, rock and lull, burst as their energy and optimism laced always with infectious passion and humility carries you out the door. The language never misses the mark. Always as it should be. Jamey Jones inhabits a zone with Frank O'Hara and Philip Whalen, a lineage of wakefulness, of wide eyed and wise delight in the "upper ideas of a bottom fed world." Anne Waldman With Pensacola crackercrumb fact and Brooklyn zigzag exact, Jamey Jones creates a poem universe wherein the spaces are like the passages in an attractive old house. You find yourself visiting again and again. Outside and inside are one: "more work / for wind / above and in / a nestled city garden." Jamey Jones finds the music in the sidewalk and the cracks between.