

There is a sense of physical enormity to the 1994 album Glass Giant, by Speculum Fight, that I’m not quite sure how to account for.
the initiatory process of editing NTTN began in the lowest desert, dead middle of sweltering summer, the hottest in a month of Sundays.
I honestly pine for wet rot. I admit it. At this point, we’re so far past decay.
A voyage through four incidents of predation. The mysterious, the hunted, the inhuman, the trapped.
A fragmented tale of a teenager tormented by receiving a cursed image in their DMs.
A “mutilated detective story” by David C. Porter set in the exurban hinterlands, NTTN follows two investigators as they listlessly attempt to solve a rash of brutal crimes, using an ominous closed-circuit television station as their North Star.
Grief as a conduit for passage beyond the veil, always returning us to life.
Two collections of poetry on grief.
An envelope opened, photos scattered on the table—all that remains of a prior life.
The poetic conjuring of a backwoods haruspex guiding us into the charged experience of encounters with hanging animal corpses, forbidding landmarks, and crumbling ruins deep in the forest.
A notebook left on a bedroom floor, mechanically pinched up and deposited in a numbered plastic baggie by a uniformed man.
[Man]will know his fault by the sun which stands in fiery witness and the wind which breathes its judgement in the final silence of the world.