Review The first poem in Winged takes you from a dive hotel near LAX to anywhere you want to go with stops for meditations on language and love, and that is only the beginning of this gorgeous book. Nothing is not marvelous to Grieve—potato chips, bikinis, family photos, wrestling, sports. Associating like Botticelli’s Simonetta on amphetamines, she begs Dr. Frankenstein to make her but with Liz Taylor’s eyes. Mae West is Grieve’s muse, but so are Italy and “the spilt wine of sundown,” and a man gunned down in a BART station, because “we’re all conspirators in Death’s master plot,” standing with Calamity Jane at Wild Bill’s grave, telling it like it is. This book is magic. ~Barbara Hamby  The crystalline poetry in Sarah Grieve’s exquisite debut volume, Winged, lifts off the page electric. Sculpted, full of lilt and swerve, these poems balance the jaunty wistfulness of a strong woman’s single life with her worldly curiosity and quest for self-invention. In a brilliant apostrophe to Botticelli’s muse, to give one example, the speaker asserts that (unlike Simonetta) she’ll consume the “deep pulls of oil, sweeps of paint” in order to “create myself in the flesh.” Grieve’s impassioned vision is grounded by earthy humor and incandescent smarts, but as this dazzling volume unfurls, these poems take wing.  ~Cynthia Hogue  Car motors rev in these poems, beds are made and unmade, glasses emptied and filled again…reader, if I told you everything these busy, happy poems do, we’d be here all day. Sarah Grieve’s world is the same as yours and mine, yet it’s also an enchanted realm in which anything can happen, where a pretty girl sharing a bag of chips with a homeless guy on a park bench is the star of her own movie. The show’s about to start, and you won’t want to miss a minute, so find your seat, sit back, and get ready to burn some calories. ~David Kirby About the Author Sarah Grieve is an accidental sun follower-living in California, Florida, Arizona, and California again. She's been lost in every major city she has ever visited and finds that is the best way to see the world and write about it. As a child, she wanted to be a dentist, an orphan, and a princess-all at the same time. She loves Broadway musicals and classic Hollywood. Her lifetime free throw percentage is better than Wilt Chamberlain's, but that's not saying much. She has been known to cry at television commercials, book acknowledgments, greeting cards, and movie previews. Sarah's future will certainly include club sandwiches, Cleveland sports, and a German shepherd named after a president. Her great grandmother used to say, "Don't bother telling a story if you're not going to embellish it."