...A cycle of poems of yes and no, rumors of life dancing on this islet sphere riding the blind career of outward motion. These rhymes are threnodies and hosannas among nurseries and crypts, hummings to fright hants habiting dingy trails through a wilderness, attempts to stay awhile this side the lichgate by becoming a gossip for the ineffable. They are a literary aesthetic concerning the quicksilver bric-a-brac on the shelves of this what-not of becoming, a naming of smoke, a grasping at echoes, that I might hide in posterity's pocket another day, another night, beyond the terrible hunger of the past's insatiable forgetting. They are wild habits of reluctance. ...