Dermaphoria is the kind of poetic long lament that is possible in human life. Not that everyone is lucky enough to experience such painful things. I say lucky because to me, truth, beauty and pain are one thing really. I mean you can't have one without the other two, it's impossible, so reading Dermaphoria for some, for me anyway, was like going into those kinds of experiences and reliving them while reading a book. That's the nature of the subconscious. It will leave you crying for no reason other than the fact that you know there is a reason.The intersection of memory and imagination is the flipside of Broadway and 42nd or Hollywood and Vine. It's the umwelt, the total world that is there when you stand looking at the street sign and a little voice in your head is saying, 'it wasn't like this in the brochure'. Clevenger taps into that with microscopic vision using words as his utensils. He turns maudlin inside out and it becomes a mnemonic palindrome, one side is you and the other is the mirror. You are forced to look at your own Desiree, what or who she is, and ache for knowing the truth. Everyone has that buried in them, from this life or another and when you open the catacomb, bats fly out, light rushes in and you are stuck with the truth in your throat. All that matters is whether or not you want to open your eyes and face it.The best wordsmithing dissolves things in a chemical reaction and the coagulate is a mystery just as Eric Ashworth's psychedelic God in a test tube - an accident of nature, a dance of molecular structures with elements changing partners like glowing bugs in a petri dish. In writing, I don't want to divide and conquer, to break things up and look at how the parts work. I prefer the alchemical version solve et coagula. I dig the magic of accepting a purer form of myself. Thank-you Craig Clevenger.Oh, and I want to mention one more intersection - the place where paranoia meets lovelessness. There is an intersection like this in real life and in this book, I won't say where they're located in either place, but just know, there is no vacuum of darkness quite like it. Go there in the book if you can, in real life, well, you usually don't have a choice. There's nothing sadder than a love that has died.I could pour accolades but, well, come over, bring your own cup.