In what follows I will quote from the poems and follow each quote with a spontaneous response, somewhat in keeping with the spirit of the work and in an attempt to avoid the narrow conclusions that analysis often yields. To perceive the past as an exotic body. Something fleshy to be turned and examined. It is the oracle of one's progress through the infinitude of sensorial possibility. Precisely accurate, and the holy luminosity of this poem.
Memory is naked bodies in a battle.
The war is sensuous as a little boy's penis. Fighter planes are guns. I am the river god in love with my dreams. Not dreams but ongoing presences spewed from the bang through a nervous system. At the edge of things but reaching way back inside.