Last Echo, by Dustin King

Poetry, chapbook, 36 pages, from Bottlecap Features. In Dustin King's visions, apocalypse is not apocalypse. It is a collective recurring nightmare whose echoes do not fade; they crash against cave walls, howl through the hallways of dilapidated mansions, whisper from the treetops in the woods at dawn. Last Echo is self-help for those who refuse it, a bear hug for anyone who would charge through its embrace. Each offering invites us to tear down the soul we never asked for, construct the one we never knew we craved, and revel in the reckoning. Dustin would always rather be sneaking a bottle of wine into a movie theater. When nothing good is playing, he teaches Spanish and exchanges dreams with loved ones in Richmond, Va. His poems pop up in The Potomac Review, The Tusculum Review, Ligeia, Feral, Blood and Bourbon, Horror/Sleaze/Trash, Marrow Magazine, South Broadway Ghost Society, and other rad spots. He is a Best of the Net nominee and a poetry reader for Sublunary Review. He curates the poetry and performance event "Yodel Farm."