Lullaby is composed...in the voice of instinct, one in which “Holes in the words dilate and dream.” And in their dream, ears can “pant” quite naturally, like mouths lapping at a “rhythm” that “localizes the infinite.” At its best, Lullaby becomes a “bacterial” presence covering us “over with [its] skin” until the “I” is “carried away.” Yet what I like best about Lullaby is its ultimate call to wakefulness; the way text and music point us back to a mutually shared, constant backdrop of things to hear.