What Bennett is doing amounts to writing two or three poems once; not only that, writing two or three kinds of poems at once. The reader is thus forced to observe him or herself in the process of putting together or holding together, strings of meaning and patterns of sounds. Reading this material is like thinking two thoughts at once. You're conscious of the flow of language, but you're also conscious of the work you're doing as a reader to maintain the appearance of that flow. This is language working against itself to almost forcibly open consciousness.
--from the afterword by Jim Leftwich