I first heard about these two books from M. Kitchell’s post at HTML Giant.
I went to the Dalkey Archives website and read:
It took me the past three days to finally finish reading these, particularly because I began with Some Thing Black. I kept putting it down. Every time I read a few poems I felt the need to get up and walk around, breathe, get air. I kept experiencing terrible waves of sadness. Jacques’s words are overwhelming. Here are two poems that appear consecutively in the book:
First “1983: January. 1985: June” (p. 31):
The rhythmic range of words fills me with horror.
I can’t bring myself to open a single book of poems.
Evening hours should be abolished.
When I wake up it’s dark: still.
Hundreds of dark mornings have been my refuge.
I read innocuous prose.
The rooms untouched: chairs, walls, shutters, clothes, doors.
I close the doors as if silence.
The light rises over my ears.