Home is where the heart is, or, in the case of The Sink House, home is what the heart is. Sequestered on a sleepy street in a dry Calgary suburb, our heroine, the House, finds herself embroiled in a stalled love affair with an elusive and alluring Oxfordshire riverbank. In a series of self-contained poems both prosy and lyrical, we follow this curious and engaging affair, which mysteriously coincides with a slow and gradual flood.

Everything succumbs to the persistent rise of water: the street becomes a creek bed, wallpaper comes away in the night, sandbags melt, kitchen utensils become silt. Here, the furniture floats, flowers become fish that feed in the garden on vegetables that explode with damp. Through it all, our lovers persist, salvaging soap boats and flushing toilets for amusement. Intelligent, enigmatic, sometimes humorous, and always enticing, The Sink House is a long, eccentric love poem that will immerse you in the flood of its own desire.

‘If only the imagination were real. Story seems to think so. And so does Julia Williams. Here, image (hear the image) beautifully choreographs the story into a readable imagination that is a measure of syllabic and rhythmic particulars, a language, thankfully, balanced, open and with surprise. In other words, a poetry that makes seeming so.’ – Fred Wah