Poetry. Even all by themselves, the titles of Patricia Lockwood's poems reveal the sort of surreal, enigmatic, rhetorically elongated world her sensibility inhabits effortlessly: "When We Move Away from Here, You'll See a Clean Square of Paper Where His Picture Hung," "The Cartoon's Mother Builds a House in Hammerspace," "The Front Half and the Back Half of a Horse in Conversation," "Children with Lamps Pouring out of Their Foreheads," and the inimitable "Killed with an Apple Corer, She Asks What Does That Make Me."