Written over a 25-year period, the poems in The Massacre Confirmed Our Worst Suspicions are a curious mixture of whimsy, longing and outrage about the passage of time, memory, relics, unrequited love and death. In an attempt at objectivity, the poems are stripped of personal pronouns, thus denying the poet the notion of some ultra-special experience that the reader can't possibly have had. These are the works of a reporter whose reporting just happens to take the form of poems.
