No punctuation but a few question marks among 14 small prose chunks where words collide like dominoes and, like dominoes laid out acrostically and accumulating patterns, visions appear from the text, images accruing from the words whipping past us as we read. Descriptions, meta-descriptions, narrative and not, of an apartment building on fire, a flood, a mountain hike, a toxic cloud, an unpeopled domestic twilight scene: things fairly familiar rendered in a prose that excites the subject. "Floating these currents rest seems hardly possible." In its unflagging momentum this writing points beyond itself--as if each description is a seed of a bigger picture: "unlinear whisper today tornado tomorrow in remote altitudes from a stream-pool a goat drinks its image flows ever toward the sea what effect its glare on global tides?"--Jeff Conant
This review originally appeared in TapRoot Reviews #3,
Contact the editor, luigi-bob drake, at Burning Press
Copyright Burning Press 1993, 1995.