Street names, museum visits, and YouTube videos provide the basis for surprising observations, memories, and reflections in Rolf Hermann's new collection of poems. He translates explorations of physical and virtual landscapes into delightful lines and images. A lyrical self, "nebulously hanging from caterpillar eyes," acquires "a stick of dynamite" and suspends time by simply swallowing a clock. The map that Rolf Hermann draws in "Cartography of Snow" spans widely: from Novosibirsk to Southern Germany, from the mouth of the Rhône through Paris to Chicago. Above all, it brings us close to what is often overlooked in the vast terrain of experience: the electric eel in the mouth, the cemetery shoes in the vineyard - and that we are always here in the elsewhere.