If one is one’s book to any degree to be destroyed, infested, repurposed, forgotten.

Joshua Ware sent me this along with a copy of my book, out of the blue. What he did with the book is fantastic, terrifying, toothed. I want it to be shared with the world to some degree. At first, Joshua was against this; he wanted it to have no digital life. After a few letters, Josh let me know that I could share it. To use my own discretion doing that. Still, I feel strange being the person entrusted to broadcast the destruction/re-reading or my poems, this object, the emergence of Joshua through it, his marks, the  emergence of other spirits through him.

More soon.