I love the way the poem extends out from Lot’s wife to a wider investigation, becomes an interrogation of male/female power structures, becomes huge in so doing, then so small as a restrained sprinkling on the butter. The poem structure is itself crystalline, which I really like.
The poem's skillful use of repetition, and its slight alterations, feels so much like the sea itself, a propulsive bearing and emptying, never the same wave twice.
The poem is bold and elemental. The directness and clear syntax also reminds me of Wislawa Szymborska.