In the foreword to his book Can It!, Edmund Berrigan explains that he’s “been looking to make a book… that works as both a whole and as parts, that might be visited from any point like a memory, that doesn’t rely on classification for definition… that tells a whole story by showing a fragmented record.” A kind of Surrealist variety show—both outrageous and contemplative—that, at its core, houses a powerful engine of coincidence, Can It! collects, recollects, experiments, and entertains. No matter the mode, the poetic line here runs true, and never misses a chance to speak back to its reader: “I’m not satisfied and neither are we. What of the filth of experimentation, the thrill of the rivet? What about satisfying the need to be imagination’s lip?” Consider Can It! a compilation of messages from the past. Or a poet’s handbook. Or a dreamscape. All of the above would be correct, and of course, fall shy of the grandeur that comprises this labyrinth of a book.