The painter and poet, in a death-wrestle, try to disentangle their protean identities, or at least to maintain a numerical tally of the limbs, heads, and torsos their shifting persons comprise.

As in Family Romance (Jaded Ibis Press), Tom Bradley has accepted the challenge posed by a stack of preexisting art. In this case the ekphrasis is in verse, and the images have sprung from the cranium of David Aronson. Publisher Jonathan Penton says, This is the most peculiar book of erotica, and the weirdest book of poetry outside of psychoses outright, I’ve ever seen. This is Bhagavad-Gita porn.