Jon Koker carves his poems with rhythmic slashes hacking at the page until he reveals visually and emotionally striking forms sometimes soft and smooth, at other times hard and angular. As a reader who does not share in Jon’s faith, I can still see the beauty and faith he finds there.
- Jonathan S Baker, author of Flowers for Forrest
All signs point toward the ghost. This trilogy of midnight confessions comes to a close as the poet closes his book and leaves the booth having found the answers he sought all those sleepless nights begging for an entity to give some sort of peace. A new light within the darkness, Koker conjures more than just the ghost, he evokes the living to fight inner demons, to stand up, to live.
- Tim Heerdink, author of Lonely God
Jon Koker’s ghost is restless but holds it together enough to ask some tough questions: “so how can i, / a furnace-faced / engine-eared / hairless hornet’s / nest / make any difference / at all?” The answer of course is nothing but let’s see what happens anyway. There is a lot of gravitas here, as in the rest of the trilogy (son and daddy). Anguish and self-debasement remain but the tone is more often directed outward, at reliable targets and blind spots that might be. ghost blows right through you – leaves you cold.
All signs point toward the ghost. This trilogy of midnight confessions comes to a close as the poet closes his book and leaves the booth having found the answers he sought all those sleepless nights begging for an entity to give some sort of peace. A new light within the darkness, Koker conjures more than just the ghost, he evokes the living to fight inner demons, to stand up, to live.