"If 'the meteor is a woman of varying biologies,' as S. Brook Corfman argues, then these meteorites are gender debris: rocky, pretty, lovingly collected fragments that have survived the travel from her biologies to yours. Intergenre and intergender, these queer sentences build verse paragraphs in which to experience the experience of dysphoria not as a psychiatric diagnosis but as a kind of architecture: 'a tiny living space for a large imagination,' 'a mysterious underneath spatially organized.' Inviting us into these inhabitations, this generous, remarkable chapbook might 'hold the dysphoria in a clean line,' but it refuses to reconcile multiplicity and variance with normativity. 'There’s a body and a body and a body and a feeling,' Corfman reports, 'and they're all different from each other.' So take note, dear reader: a century after Tender Buttons, the difference is still spreading."