Desire Zoo

Alison Luterman's eye is on women, on children, in the streets and in the woods. Or at home alone in front of a desk. Her arms envelop love in whatever form it shows up: a cup of coffee from her husband, or the curve of a pregnant woman's belly as she walks around the lake in flip-flops. Luterman's poems are concerned with this and more. She is not abstract--she can't stop telling stories. She doesn't know how to refrain from making meaning out of scraps of beauty that she's found. For Luterman, poetry is both a privilege and a job.