Author Description

Joshua Gage is an ornery curmudgeon who graduated from the Low Residency MFA Program in Creative Writing at Naropa University. He has a penchant for Pendleton shirts, rye whiskey, and any poem strong enough to yank the breath out of his lungs. He stomps around Cleveland in a purple bathrobe and hosts the monthly Deep Cleveland Poetry Hour. "Zombies don't do five-seven-five (so many fingers missing)! This fun book of masterfully written one-gasp poetry proves that the force and beauty of haiku--even those about a walking dead apocalypse--have nothing to do with syllable counting. Your flesh will crawl--but, hopefully, won't crawl away!" -- David G. Lanoue, President of the Haiku Society of America "Gage thoroughly understands the form and his resultant haiku are chilling snapshots of the reality of a world overtaken by a zombie apocalypse... I audibly gasped several times as I read through this manuscript, the snapshots of his zombie universe felt that real. I could smell rot, hear the whine of a calliope, feel the warm body of another survivor at my back, taste spiced rum, and clearly see the wiggle of body bags." -- Deborah P. Kolodji, former President of the Science Fiction Poetry Association, Moderator of the Southern California Haiku Study Group Cover art by Rebekah Moss.