I’m hovering by the letterbox (well, I am on week days–even I’m not deluded enough to think the postie will work extra days just to deliver my wishes) waiting for my copy of The Oxford Book of Short Poems. I borrowed it from a library a couple of years ago and could have cried when I had to return it. Some books are meant to be keepers. This is one.
If you’re not sure you like poetry, buy this book. The poems are the best of the best, and too brief to be terrifying.