<p>&quot;If Goldbarth belongs to a school, he is surely its sole member. He's simply . . . one of our most generous working poets.&quot; -<i>Rumpus</i><br><i></i><br><i></i><br><i>And you</i><br><i><br></i><br><i><br>perhaps don't like this poem: its free verse</i><br><i><br>or its narrative or the way it uses</i><br><i><br>gender or the heavy-handed</i><br><i><br>word-play of its title.</i><br><i><br></i><br><i><br>Like I care.</i><br><i><br></i><br><i><br>I wrote this for me.</i><br><i></i>-from &quot;'Try the Selfish'&quot;</p><p>In his latest collection, the incomparable Albert Goldbarth explores all things &quot;self-ish&quot;: the origins of identity, the search for ancestry, the neurology of self-awareness, and the line between &quot;self&quot; and &quot;other.&quot; Whether one line long or ten pages, whether uproariously comic or steeped in gravitas, these are poems that address our human essence.</p>