In A Catalogue of Falling, we see in this second book by Méira Cook a poet in full free-fall flight, and although we may not always know exactly where she is going or where she is coming from, she can always astound us. These are poems of motion, of the gerund, always busy, always. I have the sense of a motion picture being laid out frame by frame, impossibly contained and stilled, stalled in paper. … The poems in Cook’s new book possess all the imaginative energy of her first but they have also gained a new seriousness and have moved a step away from pure fiction into something more human and personal. … Cook’s language is bright and lively, her syntax moving and jarring. Her poems reside in the gap between lyric and narrative; they tell a story, yet they try not to tell a story or, rather, they tell a story poetically.