"Wong delivers heartbreaking and tender lines of poetry, as light as a dream's remembrance, as hard-hitting as a dream's sudden flash of insight."—Jenny Boully, author of The An Essay"Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, God, the familial dead, Walter Benjamin, Anne Sexton and the Road Runner all inhabit the same philosophical and poetic plane...the semiotic field is flattened in a brave thunderclap of reduction, and images begin to drift towards the toroidal opening of the wormhole some might call awakening, others might call death."—W. B. Keckler, author of Sanskrit of the Body"Cyril Wong excavates an archaeology of the self, departing into unpredictable dreamtime where the gamut of emotions - anger, terror, and joy intermingle with the absurd, the funny, the surreal, and the intensely personal."—Mong-Lan, author of Tango, Poems & Art