![Ruth Maus at Barnes & Noble](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIVuVXRMuFcJV1-3bQXvanqwwwR6Pft2yvR1GrmVHubdmCoBoT31sa6f2cOipLGXkh1GlcbVFSn7Azm6VaTR0iAZzkPoaKope4SyE4_2W3gMtg0U_IR6aOZ0V400X-PJB423oOGTcOaGwK/s200/B%2526N+on+the+shelf+12-14-19.jpg)
Barnes & Noble
IndieBound.org
Meadowlark Books
or purchase direct from the author
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There’s a
feistiness to Ruth Maus’s Valentine that I love—not irreverence or
contrarianism for its own sake, but a dissatisfaction with dominant
perspectives. Look at the world again from this angle, the poems insist: How
does it feel to be a fossil? Don’t people play possum, too? What makes you think
Humpty Dumpty wasn’t a girl? Maus poses these sneakily metaphysical questions
and then proceeds to answer them, with brio and poise, in the most
extravagantly musical language.
-Eric McHenry,
author of Odd Evening, Poet Laureate of Kansas, 2015-2017
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