Occurring in the rooms and corridors where life is lived, these poems emerge from the spaces behind the sofa cushion where things get lost, and in the bedroom where people inhale and exhale together. The Infinite Park documents the ways each day comes undone, and celebrates the tireless minute-by-minute heroics required to put it back together. Honouring the labours of love and confusion, these poems pursue a language of the commonplace, of memories that are kept in boxes, of the family bed where the cats and kids gather, and where words spoken and the warm presence of loved others become indistinguishable from the day.

With his second collection Peter Unwin further develops a verse the Malahat Review praised for its “sardonic clarity … forever tempered by a deeper caring.” These pages vibrate with moments in which life’s fullness is found in its seemingly empty and random places, and spoken in a language of plain necessity.