This is "modernist" poetry. The author, a 70 year old senior, is still modernist at heart. Reading his work one recalls just how much we learnt from the modernists, beginning with Eliot and Hart Crane. Cunningham's work, in spite of its expressive oddity, contains splendid content, with many lines for the eye and the ear. Cunningham makes frequent use of glaring grammatical and verbal dissonances, as in certain avant-garde modernist music, and perhaps even Beethoven's. He appeals, however, to the heart, and the heart understands even where the mind falters and fails to make sense. This book is intended for poetry lovers of all ages and the author and his publishers are undeterred by the fact that as yet Cunningham has very few readers.