Venti by JoAnne McKay, known to everybody in blogland as Titus, is not so much a book of poems as a work of art. It is the type of book that should be held carefully and handled with the same reverence you would give to those marvellously illustrated books of history, with their tracing-paper leaves and pull-out maps.
As we know from week to week, JoAnne is a wonderfully evocative poet who bends and kneads words into the atmosphere she is creating. The title poem is a great example, the assonance is so soothing. My own personal favourite (although its a bit like having a favourite in a Belgian chocolate selection box) is Hippocampus hippocampus, a beautiful word fest, that has great understated humour.
JoAnne's previous book, the Fat Plant (I had a mental picture of a rotund shrub, despite the cover!) was a lot more personal, peppered as it was with incidents from her life. Venti is pure poetry in every sense of the word.
And then there are the illustrations too, some by Matt Kish. Really, I was somewhat afraid of reading the book, in case I left a mucky thumbprint. Venti would be a perfect gift for anyone who loves the arts. Buy it!