MATT CLIFFORD is spiking the Kool-Aid. A caustic, yet vulnerable, thirty-something brat. He builds a box just to escape it. Self-deprecating, but he's taking you with him. Matt Clifford is Denver, but he'd never admit it. This book is equal parts Matt and Clifford, but only sometimes. Matt is a full-time poet who sunlights as a tax accountant. His poems are, at once, collective and separate. Damn your preconceived notions. Don't be so reliant on a back cover to tell you what to think. This book deserves to be read. Damn ...
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MATT CLIFFORD is spiking the Kool-Aid. A caustic, yet vulnerable, thirty-something brat. He builds a box just to escape it. Self-deprecating, but he's taking you with him. Matt Clifford is Denver, but he'd never admit it. This book is equal parts Matt and Clifford, but only sometimes. Matt is a full-time poet who sunlights as a tax accountant. His poems are, at once, collective and separate. Damn your preconceived notions. Don't be so reliant on a back cover to tell you what to think. This book deserves to be read. Damn this book. Damn your eyes.
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