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These poems feel so haunted to me, by the specter of the AIDS crisis, by God, by something like survivor‘s guilt. The speaker seems to struggle with what it means to be after, what it means to go on. Towards the end, in the last few poems, there is a turn toward the future and a feeling, to me, of the speaker reconciling himself with movement into that unknown. It feels like less a destination and more a bridge.
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