Airy spaces within sounds , letters , words , between letters and words more
spaces , systolic and diastolic silences , aphasic abyss in each moment ,
distension of oblivion in paragraphs , margins , all the talk of worlds . Road
stretches across ...
Author: Skip Fox
Publisher: Ahadada Press
Poetry. Skip Fox, with the concern of an entomologist, presents passages sprawling and pinned in a shadow box of observations and odd lots. Framed under double glass, the mounting board of AT THAT writhes with a cast of freaks: Ezekiel in the streets, a kitty bomb squad, sadists on steroids, the shadow of Cadmus, kingfishers, omen clad apertures of evening with cicada wings, heart attacks of clouds rolling in off the Gulf, a city mouse, spastic proctologists, and so forth, all projecting their "goods" in spate: smatterings, obsolete creeds, mordacious stumps, "furious opinions, exaggerations, fabrications," neo-prophetic stylings, verbal molestations, elegiac mumblings, the silence above a shallow grave, etc. Currently serving what appears to be a life sentence at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, Skip Fox has worked in woods, warehouses, shake and shingle mills, lumber yards, ketchup & catfood factories, mental hospitals, and so on.