"In The Wanderer, Christine Gosnay writes, 'The beginning of the marriage? Oh yes. / A bitter cold day, in a public park. No swans. / I was the only woman there.' The first time I read those lines, I recognized the voice of the wanderer as the voice of our collective, internal exile from America. I was shocked by the strength of that recognition. I hadn't known, before I read these poems, that I had no words to speak my exile. Gosnay gave me words." —Shane McCrae
The Wanderer
