When we at TOA first discussed these poems by Daniel Borzutzky, one of our editors said, “These are [expletive deleted] horrifying. I love them.” Another said, “Horrifying and awesome. I didn’t expect to laugh so much.” Certainly these poems conjure imagery and ideas fit for the week of Halloween, but the horrors they convey aren’t so fantastic as ghouls, nor so poorly rationalized as evil killers on the loose. These are poems of excess—though neither neat nor tidy, their bulk is almost mathematically logical. The poems budget for excess, allow themselves the physical and mental space to go places that are gross and uncomfortable—horrifying, even.