Kristy Bowen is a master of conjuring the treacheries of femininity. In sex & violence, she draws upon such diverse sources as Plath’ s Ariel poems (here collaged piece by piece to make her own poems so much stranger, and newer, and hauntingly “ eerie,” as in the absence of the missing, familiar words, and the missing, familiar woman) and, to conjure the contrary, poems set to dumb blonde jokes, where the result of two blondes “ fall(ing) down a hole” is that “ the wishbone of their throats harbor tiny fish and assorted birdery” and that, after murder, their bodies can be found “ placed so careful in their beds each morning.” Here is a book to beware of, dear reader. You’ ll find yourself trapped inside Bowen’ s “ enormous wedding cake— a claustrophobic swirl of sugar and lace,” with “ Horses and house fires” placed right next to it, and in its feverish dream of kisses and ruin, you won’ t want to ever escape.— Gillian Cummings