George Sipos is acutely aware that life, in its strangeness and beauty, will always elude whatever he can say about it. Exploring northern British Columbia, the mountains, harsh winters and human isolation, the tension between the humble recognition that words are inadequate and the insistent urge to capture what he sees and feels gives Anything but the Moonits blend of quiet reverence and meditative urgency. Anything but the Moonis George Sipos's first collection, but his poetry is richly mature. Exploring how alien nature can feel and yet how familiar it is as well, Sipos writes lush lyric poems about driving his truck or listening to the sounds of a henhouse, reflecting upon how everyday experiences slip through our fingers, never to be fully understood or completely articulated. Revealing a doubleness of sight, Sipos shows a fine-grained attention to the sensuous details of what he sees and experiences, yet simultaneously maintains a broader, philosophical view of the mysterious whole. Even as he celebrates place and the difficulties and preciousness of human relationships, he portrays the sense of something vanishing. The result is a collection of highly reverent and contemplative poems which demand that readers slow down, look and think.