The poems in Air inhabit the state of being consciousness, delving into the nature of solitude and the pleasures of the human organism.

Cinematic, nostalgic, and unabashedly raw, Daniel Halpern’s latest poetry collection, Air, hinges on the human experience. The normalities of life are recounted through rich, intimate and often confessional exposition, drawing on people and places, insects and birds, and on the conscious exploration of musings that are both dear and curious to the author. Halpern writes to French actresses, insomnia, old lovers, a pot of stew, friends from past and present. As he reminisces on once-realities and questions his own observations—the duplicity of memory—these poems transcend form and the world becomes anew. Air, like each of our breaths, proves that poetry is quite literally all around us.