Poetry. "Anne Waldman glows even in the throes of morning sickness at the Buddhist chateau. The mind empties as the belly expands, but the mind doesn't clear without a detailed expression of what it is letting go of, and the body doesn't fill without a rich chronicle of sensation. She takes us all the way to term and then, the baby gets the pantoums. What a retreat she takes us on. What a euphonic spell of sleep-deprived wonder she casts"--C.D. Wright. "With her warm subtle fleshy FIRST BABY POEMS Waldman creates an infant power that did not exist before in her words. These poems are complex joyful bioalchemy"--Michael McClure.