The first word in this new collection by Phil Hall is "raw" and the last word is "blurtip." Between these, many nouns cry faith within a hook-less framework that sings in chorus while undermining such standard forms & tropes as "the memoir," "genealogy" and "the shepherd's calendar." With a rural pen, these poems talk frogs, carrots, local noises, partial words, remnants, dirt roads, deep breath & hope: my laboratory the moment is accordion-shaped - cluttered - sopping & not eternal
[Hall has created] a meditation on the poetic process that stimulates both the intellect and the imagination. – Barbara Carey, The Toronto Star Hall manages to rescue the lyrical essay from its recondite excesses and turn it into something that's as adventurous as it is readable. Hall has called himself a "surruralist," and this book charts his development as a writer, but it also demonstrates and furthers that development. – Paul Vermeersh, The Globe and Mail Hall is aware that he's aligned with an aesthetic of past decades that may not be fashionable, but he seems determined to keep its spirit alive by understanding what it tells us about our aesthetic today. To him I would give an award for unabashedly keeping an authentic Canadian poetic voice alive. – The Montreal Gazette Killdeer is a testament to the creative life as an act of faith and transformation. – The Griffin Prize Judges