“Satiatory relaxcellence, from the leisurely experiential wealth of the margins. Beheaded then reheaded, a slangy tractatus. Delicious as tears. An improvement of serious culture. Totally ok with stuff. Tofurkyish in the best possible way, revels in revelatory giddiness between recreational arson and hot-yogic heat-signatures. (These anarchoprimitivists sure are some fun peepz.) Gasoline is flammable as Life Experience Coolant. GET TO THIS, partake.” —Donato Mancini

“We pass through a consciousness entertaining the non-effects of large doses of Lurasidone, the realism of a Hermann Broch character (Huguenau), Islamic apophaticism, all in the first pages of the first poem. A raw realism where everything could happen at once is on display here or, better yet, a phenomenology in its purest state, sped by a happy confidence in the energies and various intentionalities in the state of ordinary wakefulness. There is a generosity in this writing, a refusal to mask any of the intimacy of the numerous exchanges it reports. “This isn’t chic LA performance art, this isn’t what you’d call a ‘safe place,’ this is a poem.” —Tim Lilburn

“Fulton is very skilled at what he does….those who love experimentation will be drawn in by his ability to play freely among the signifiers and pushthe notion of form through typography.” —Montreal Review of Books