Richard Holeton’s gleefully, not to say Gaudi-ly, illustrated glidepath through the remnants of language that trail beyond the (littoral, literal) “postmodern” like the tail of a forlorn freeform comix comet, manage—as the Oulipo poet Michelle Grangaud might have said in her own Formes de l’anagramme à faire plusieurs fois des Temps rondo, in an eschatological imagetext mashup of demon storm troops, pert rodents, and skidrow resident poets, porn purveyors, and sperm donors via Flickr borrowings, Wiki burrowings, and whole tons of homebrew images bluesily rendered ala twerk. (Source: Vassar Review introduction)