I see the devil's head, people, I see his whole body . . .
he longs for innocence, as we do.
Here the poet juggles many tones, languages, and countries. Desire is evoked as both frustrating and exhilarating-
I'm watered by longing, knocking my
head into the wall, on the ground, or I burn, burn,
folded up on the couch.
And memory comes back to remind us of the laws and experiences of childhood-
Once again you are let loose in the sea
only after five o'clock in the afternoon to take
a dose of sunlight like the ticking of the clock.

At once daring and clear-voiced, The Book for My Brother is an extraordinary achievement.