A giddy, whimsical and expertly timed series of fake-outs and sucker punches. Corporatism, sexism and intellectual sloth all get brought out for questioning in a series of wild, gesticulating poems...
Jacob MacAurthur Mooney, The Globe and Mail
sometimes cutthroat precise, sometimes as subtle as a tire-slash, bloody and prehensile, tearing through to the guts and heart of what language can possibly do.
poetry that refuses to be therapeutic, and as such it’s a bloody relief.
Blogger Drake Alley
Reimer lets it bleed into form, into cadence, into pace.