With great elegance and wit, Phloem channels the consciousness of objects to discover that their lives are as complicated and troubled as our own, with wholly unexpected stories to tell - whether it be the subjects of Margaret Preston's paintings, chafing against their representation, or the death, resurrection, second death and enduring dream existence of a beloved car. Just as the latter refuses to be wholly written off, these poems seek to rescue the vivid presence of things from the certainty of loss, all the time rejoicing in their own sleight of hand. That applies especially to the nature poems, which are a further highlight of this longawaited collection, where radical contingency is held in place by the finest art. As the opening poem declares, 'Now I can say - tree - if you like, /but understand the conditions.'