Ralph Angel is a brilliant poet, master of the laconic veering toward silence. Like his beloved Pierre Reverdy, he writes lines that turn your mind inside out, something always yielding to its opposite, presence and absence intertwine. "I painted the walls and the ceiling an even white. / Then I knocked out a wall." The words emerge from the white space of the page, hesitant, whispered into the silence, uncertain of return. Melancholy, mysterious, precise. These are poems from Angel's new book, Your Moon, just launched from Western Michigan University's amazing press New Issues Poetry & Prose.