In these tightly packed lyric-narrative poems, juxtaposed with black and white images to set the scene, Kebrdle sees with guts and grace what only someone can, who comes from the place of which they sing. There is a terrible beauty to this book that might just dead-end at the end of all possibility, some place near and far away. Two lane highways, gravel and dirt. Roadside bars, wooded alcoves, the backseats of Chevy’s. Corn fields and soybeans. People too hard and too soft in their hearts. Cemeteries, lovers’ lanes, a mercy that burns. Ponds full of things that can’t swim in them.