Cast in the light of eerie Area 51 telecasts and atmospheric static, Laura Madeline Wiseman’s poems exist and revel in strangeness–of our selves, our domesticities, our bodies, the huge midwestern sky. Each poem touches, with both humor and wonder, our sense of human-ness (not necessarily the same thing as “humanity”) and what that means in the light of such strangeness…
– Kristy Bowen
