I am catching up with the No Tell Motel.

I've already mentioned Erik Sweet's poem with the "rattle of the storefront cage."

This one of Max's seems to me as good as a nature short or a scene by Pixar.

Sandra Beasley's instruction manual poem is a positive example of that much-maligned form, the grandma poem -- when it's done right as it is here, grandma gets to be at least as much a person as a totem of unconditional love.

The car in this poem by Eric Gelsinger is populated with "lung-like evergreens" that "shimmered in the back like electricity." Maybe the trees aren't in the car, but it feels as confusing and exciting as if they were.