"The poems are energized, intense, and demanding. There is a percussive run in many, and a lash in others. On the surface I sense irony, bewilderment at times, anger, sarcasm, and ultimately hope. The core is a sensitive evocation of now. The country is increasingly moving in radical directions politically and culturally as people search for some sense of direction. These poems capture the painful uncertainty that comes with significant transitions, and they develop an ironic sense of desire to hold onto old myths or at least perceptions of order. On the one hand the old stories are seen for what they are, but their loss creates a vacuum. The sense of hope and a will to make sense out of contemporary existence inheres in the most turbulent poems—all the shattering of the static and distractions of the moment with a latent hope for something approaching meaning."

Dr. Gillin, Washington College

Mothballed marauders hymn ‘Ave Mumia’
(the refrain’s a swollen alabaster drone)

Sparrows shy South in a lopsided V
Bacchant at the very promise of

Soft, yperite rose
She’s no albino poinsettia

From fragments and symbols
We’ll assemble the Lord.
©2009 Raymond J. Cummings

These words trickle, anymore
I’ve husks, not kernels
Pop pop pop pop pop

Corks, weasels, bottled bubbly
Silences molten down
The hatch and cheers,

Everyone: what’s imparted
Here is ballast, uncertain, coded,
Backmasked language

As confined, unassignable
Noise, shakey re-entry or
Nonsense made manifesto

©2009 Raymond J. Cummings