In a cycle of poems so dark they burn-blind your inner eye, Shame stalks Forgiveness as bystander angels bear helpless witness. Dear Corpse invites us to escape with the author across a landscape littered with desiccated, gnawed-out lucubrations on what it means to be human—and each step of the way is riveting. Ed Bok Lee, author of Mitochondrial Night
My words can not do justice to these poems. I wish I had been reading them in a remote cabin in the middle of the woods in late October in front of a fireplace (but still chilled to the bone) with the sound of a river in the background because that is how it made me feel.