erros

An album of lavish residuals, erros is a 'somewhat song . . . in the last of the light, the disassembling light.' Schuldt's rich play with language is always aware-painfully aware, erotically aware-of its mortal stakes. These are the poems Hopkins would have written were Hopkins a skeleton, a faint web of salt on a dirty stone, a 'nakeshift,' a 'sakesbelieve.' And with Hopkins's sense of humor, too: such delight in the final turning of a phrase, a body, a breath. erros is, in Schuldt's perfect reckoning, 'l=u=n=g=u=a=g=e' made 'violable-hollow-bright.' - G.C. Waldrep