Reviewed by Michael Maiello Kristin Bock’s Glass Bikini comprises a poetic cosmology where Jungian archetypes swirl through contemporary life and we witness uncanny valleys
—Sergei Korolev in Kolyma Gulag, 1938—1941 This is how Stalin fed us in the gulags: cold and hungry, we became our own fuel.
This morning—wind breathing, ticky tock tack of some small rain. What are these weeds tall as I am with umbels of little white blooms?
Remember that dead whale the neighborhood kids walked all over? And the great white jaw marks— one bite taken after another along the belly