Sitting outside in America is an Eileen Myles pursuit. Every time I do it I think of an Eileen Myles poem—from throwing open “all the doors in my home” because “There’s a pulse outside I want to hear” in “Immanence” ( Maxfield Parrish , 1995) to the “fat little Buddha” in the yard in “Sweet Heart” ( evolution , 2018), ice cracking as the poet pours coke—decidedly not Fresca—into a glass (I, a Brit, once had to get them to explain Fresca to me).

In one of my favorites, a quiet poem called “our happiness,” a late afternoon stoop is illuminated by a last bit of money spent on “a strong cappuccino / which we shared / sitting there & / suddenly the / city was lit.” It is a relief, therefore, to discover afresh that Myles has been sitting outside in America since the beginning of their career.

Their new book, lovingly published by Fonograf, comprises sorely needed reprints of their first three books— The Irony of the Leash , A Fresh Young Voice from the Plains , and Sappho’s Boat —along with Bird Watching ,…