Dyjak takes no prisoners in this searing examination of a culture of trauma that originates in the family and spirals out.

i remember how uncle came to family gathering as usual,

as usual …

i remember how one time

when his kids were grown, he said

child molesters should be castrated.

and i wanted to ask him, but didn’t.

and i wanted to ask him, but didn’t.

and i wanted to ask him, in front of all

his friends and family if

he had castrated himself.

— excerpt, “i remember”

This is an author willing to risk baring her soul, and steeped in the leading edge of her craft. Dyjak is determined to pry off the tightly nailed doors of our dark basements and let the light pour in, and in doing so she spins our suffering into art.

you dreamed

you dreamed new dreams

and woke-up in the same place

knowing

why Cinderella has no story once she’s gained the castle

suspecting that Rapunzel

bricked-up her own door.

— excerpt, “Woman Without a Country”