I've known Craig Czury for nearly a decade, and he has never been in one place long. A traveler, his poems are hooked from his consistent ability to be in a new place. They sparkle, like a sunfish after catching in the hot sun on a stream shore--beautiful, and then you realize the terror of the writhing fish. Czury's poems are full of doors and windows. There is always this going in and out and seeing in and out. The poems are like that: turning inside of themselves and again outside: watching and twisting both in the emotional and physical realms at the same time and then not. It is a labyrinth to live with poetry. And in this hotel along the way is a particularly memorable sequence for Franz Kline.--Mike Basinski
This review originally appeared in TapRoot Reviews #4,
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