"In the middle of the night, when the fruit is scariest. I hold my hand outand feel your nibbling. Don't worry, my eyes are still closed. I've onlypeeked that once. The cold that is your breath-these windowsof fog. If I were outside, I'd read your name backward again and again.Trey Moody is from San Antonio, Texas. He earned an MFA from Texas State University and a PhD from the University of Nebraska.

He is the author of the chapbook How We Remake the World, co-written with Joshua Ware, and winner of the Slope Editions Chapbook Prize. "--"Like rigorous philosophy, Trey Moody's poems begin with the immediate evidence, then move outward: "I am here," he says, "So far / this seems to have been true." With his own existence as somewhat shaky premise, Moody is able to explore correspondences of thought and nature, of mind and matter. His project is to identify and capture those moments when the border between personal consciousness and the otherness of the physical become porous: "Pin oak left / me with its leaves, each / a somewhat familiar word." Word is just one letter away from world, and through Moody's bemused, self-effacing explorations we begin to see just how much language shades and even determines our day-to-day experience. Ironically, it also allows Moody to measure the distance between consciousness and direct experience, even as he casts this gap in memorable speech. "Wind listens," he says, "though I lack insight." This debut collection by a poet of obvious promise offers the reader a folding together of sensual delight and intellectual pursuit--a rare and bracing combination"--.