Harsh. Cutting. Uncomfortably touching. This poetry collection delves into the darkness of the modern world. Dawson's work has tremendous scope and agility. In the title poem, in a single breath he ranges from the Renaissance to postmodern sunsets in trying to imagine a metaphor for winter: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Stars squint and yawn, unfolding, the moon bleeds dry Why try to describe it? Whether addressing issues such as racism, homophobia and terrorism, or turning a wickedly scathing eye on the failings of writers and other misfits, Paul Dawson's poems are angry and unforgettable. He explores the bleakness of city landscapes, seeks meaning in the heat of eroticism, and lays bare the things people will not admit to thinking, even to themselves.