In his new collection Where That Leaves Us, the poet Michael P. Hill displays a folksinger-like gift for unearthing, from everyday moments, both the seedy and the sublime. In so doing, he embodies much of what made Bruce Springsteen's best work so humane and so moving (the collection's epigraph is a Springsteen lyric)-he feels the same ache you feel at what is lost, even as he asks you to love what you can still hold on to, because it's from there that hope grows anew. As tempting as it is to draw comparisons to James Wright or Ted Kooser, it is the Springsteen of "My Hometown" that Hill's vision seems to most resemble. I mean it as the highest compliment possible when I say that a couplet like "I was eight years old and running with a dime in my hand / to the bus stop to pick up a paper for my old man" could very easily have been the opening to a Michael P. Hill poem.-Christopher Watkins, author of Famished and Short Houses with Wide PorchesIt's no wonder Michael P. Hill's first full-length poetry collection is divided, like an LP, into an "A" side and a "B" side. Where That Leaves Us is a study in sound and movement that revolves around the author's musical virtuosity. Listen closely and you'll hear quiet joy in his depictions of the everyday-from small town life to parenting to fly fishing. There is also nostalgia that quickens the heart, though these poems are not overly sentimental. Homes are "demolished" and "human skulls" are on display to remind us that life and death are closely aligned. What's more, Hill has an ear for rhythm that makes Where That Leaves Us a collection you can dance to. Odds are you'll move the needle to play it again.-Dave Malone, author of Bypass and Tornado Drill
