These prose poems are intelligent, humorous and perplexing in an odd sort of way. I almost want to use the train wreck analogy to describe them as I just couldn't stop reading them, even when they left little question mark filled light bulbs over my head. There is a tale of a woman whose house is made of soap, right down to her sheets, tiny little carbon people who fall to the earth in raindrops and scurry off into the grass, a woman who hides her murdered husband by hanging him on the clothesline where the police don't think to look. Mr. Schorb's prose poems all fall along these lines and you will be entertained by his imagination which shows no signs of limitation.
~Christine L. Reed, Editor
MAELSTROM, Vol. IV, Issue 3, 2003