With sharp focus and startling language, the poems in Maw Shein Win's second book, iStorage Unit for the Spirit Housei, look through physical objects to glimpse the ephemeral, the material, and the immaterial. Vinyl records, felt wolverines, a belt used to punish children, pain pills, and show dogs with bejeweled collars crowd into Win's real and imagined storage units. iNatsi, Buddhist animist deities from her family's homeland of Burma, haunt the book's six sections. The inatsi, spirits believed to have the power to influence everyday lives, inhabit the storage units and hover around objects while forgotten children sleep under Mylar blankets and daughters try to see through the haze of a father's cigarette smoke. p Assemblages of both earthly and noncorporeal possessions throughout the collection become resonant and alive, and Win must summon a circle of drums and copper bells to appease the inats iwho have moved into a long-ago family house. This careful curation of unlikely object