Poetry. There is a STORY at a beach. There is a couple evolving and devolving inside a new fangled form of the couplet. There is the landscape: the ocean, sand, and sun that language flails in trying to recreate. "The beach reached for them but slipped. / The beach shells and sound. / The beach the one syllable until soft." STORY is a cryptic film, an old photograph, a mystery, where narrative, memory, truth, and trauma are interrogated, where credibility slips much like the language that is storytelling. Where, "what is the truth but what we say." "A massively ambitious and disciplined work that utilizes cinematic and novelistic technique, sometimes reminding me of Nouvelle Vague--and at other times, a rich and textured grammar of the interpersonal."--Erica Hunt