"Both Apollo speaks from inside the bodies and binaries that are felt as constraints. Sometimes it tries to negotiate. It laments, celebrates, reasons, jokes, and occasionally begs. It runs into a wall and hugs it, offers it pizza, and speeds through the rotary of grammars and cities until dizziness catapults it from the grid. It tries to queer the echoes of its language in the hope that a queer rhyme might break the logic of either/or and give rise to both/and. It would rather evade than refuse. It would rather embrace than hold. It's basically a love poem to whatever has the grace to appear. But the battleground is not all battle, even if there is no safe place above the fray. Moments of humor and tenderness accompany the speaker with each act of crossing and circling back. If the poems hope, this is where and how they do it: quietly, at the boundary"--