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In Dear Animal, as in the salutation to a frank and feisty love letter, the poet is a ‘ pure bird of the street,’ a ‘ rock dove,’ or maybe ‘ Joan of Arc,’ in an imperfect, urban, gendered zoology. The poet declares that she studies vaginas, her ‘ Long Deep Wound.’ It’ s the source of her boundless will and power. She tells us, ‘ See through me. See the violet of my natural disaster, my exposed boutique,’ demonstrating her knowledge with intimate vignettes, vivid lists, tales of her yearnings and exploits. She says, ‘ I’ m a crime.’ But if these gorgeous and graphic poems, full of devotion, read as criminal, sign me up for their poetic justice.’ -Joyce Jenkins