Turnstone Press

The poems in A Fine Grammar of Bones are haunting and often poignant incantations. Méira Cook’s poetry and prose inhabit a world of fable and magic. Her cadences are primal, her language ­allusive, her subjects reminiscent of sideshow. In the prose sections, the company of bizarre includes a woman who keeps her mother’s heart in the fridge, a night watchman who dresses his mannequin in the finest lingerie, and a schoolteacher who passes his days with a dead dog tied to his leg. These poems are haunting and often poignant incantations—this first collection, musical and fantastical, introduces an uncommon imagination to Canadian literature.