If you want to get back to the beginning you must fast forward to the end. I press play, drop into the solar system à la Holst, somewhere beyond the asteroid belt, rocketing ever further out. The poems in There’s No Pluto in this Suite take the reader to the edges of ordinary experiences, places and narratives and ask them to leap from that ordinariness into the unexpected.

The collection is broken into three parts, and the reader is taken on a ride through verse concerned with the experiences of immigration, travel and transience; then on to a gathering around the hearth, telling stories about what drives humans to live: vocations, love and journeys of discovery; and finally into a mythic realm, encountering holy fools, witchy saints and places of overlap between silly and sacred.

There’s No Pluto in this Suite is a playful collection that blends formal and free verse, lyric and narrative, and in which the profound rubs shoulders with the messy and the patently mysterious.