Christopher Sunset, Geoffrey Nutter's most latest collection, is a book that sails forward into a world of transformations and immense likelihood. In it, one might buy “watermelon / traded from a azure shack, or a shark,” and Nutter's openness to the promise inherent within that minute consonant-shift allows him to present a world where “If shark, the crop / has quills, superb” and, by the poem's end, “banished from the abstract,” readers finds themselves somewhere with “all doorways ajar” (Klein, Pp. 15)
This is not to state, although, that the book is abstract or unfocused; rather, Christopher Sunset ...