today

today is a short book of six poems, written in lower case throughout, about treating the present day as a position rather than a destination. Its title poem sets the terms: today is a vantage point for looking back at the old todays and forward at the ones not yet defined, so nobody knows you until they know where you are going. The rest work outward from there — a tree that adapts to each season without complaint, the subtle difference between worrying about a lot and thinking about a lot, death as the stalker that follows closer than a shadow, and self-improvement as something with no finish line, where a person is always a slightly better beta version of themselves.

The voice is quiet and unhurried, and the poems are built from plain speech rather than ornament. It is the latest writing in the Spreuke library, and it reads like the settled version of ideas the earlier books argued their way toward: gratitude that has stopped needing a reason, and a mind set on letting light in until the day comes round again.