The Moon's Jaw

The poems of The Moons Jaw are a portrait of rotting decadence: wastelands of body and soul radioactive with death, cruelty, and a dark gleaming perverse sexuality. The language, flow, and rhythms of Rauan Klassniks second collection seem to revel in themselves, stagnate, bog down, wallow. As Klassnik writes, Theres no way out but we dont stop trying and here, we find a wasteland spectrum, from a playground, a twisted eden that lurches forwarddespite a swollen turgid gravity of blurred gender and godlessness and wheel-spinning rutsto an obsessive and persistently striving narrative of death, gender, corruption, and (anti)religion.