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Clark, G. O., 2011, Shroud of Night, Dark Regions Press, 60 p., www.darkregions.com, perfectbound pb, ISBN 978-1-937128-02-9, $7.95.

G. O. Clark has been a fixture in the fantastic poetry community since before I joined it. His work has been published in many places, including Asimov's Science Fiction and Strange Horizons. This is his 10th book. We have never met, but I have read and enjoyed his work for decades. Shroud of Night, his latest collection, comprises a diverse assemblage of his darkest poetry. Most of these 39 poems are very short, driving their nails in with just a few lines. Few are longer than a page, but they don't need to be. Original images are hard to come by in horror poetry, but Clark delivers, again and again.

From "Cemetery Angel"

She's just trying to
get the kinks out, a little
break time stretching, stiff from
having to hold a solemn pose
all night and day.

Some of these poems can be reminiscent of the old Rolling Stones song "Sympathy for the Devil." Others have a sharper edge. Still other poems are serious and silly at the same time.

From "A Few Words About The Angels"

They can adapt to every atmosphere,
be it air, water, or the vacuous lack thereof,
the speed of light a minor inconvenience.

From "Curses and Salutations"

May your gravestone be made of cardboard,
your casket balsa wood, and your obituary
written by a dyslexic drunk.

It's not easy to encompass in a brief review the breadth of style and tone displayed in this book. I hope these three excerpts give you something of the flavor of the whole that they represent.

Who would've thought a poem about screams could send chills up my spine? Did you know that Hell hath a sailboat? Pray you are never conscripted for the crew! You'll meet some peculiar monsters in this book. Zombies, sure, but garden gnomes? What is their horrifying secret? There is humor here, but who said humor and horror don't go together? I think they do, and if you read this book, I believe you'll see I am right. Shroud of Night brings a lot of darkness together in a handy package. You should read it.

Clark, G. O., 2009, Strange Vegetables, Dark Regions Press, Box 1264, Colusa CA 95932, www.darkregions.com, cover by M. Wayne Miller, interior art by G. O. Clark, $7.95, perfect-bound pb, ISBN-10 1-888993-67-7, 1SBN-13 978-1-888993,-67-7, 53 p.

Dark Regions Press has been publishing poetry chapbooks since the early 90s at least. The early ones, all out of print, had black-and-white covers, but they included remarkable work from some of the best science fiction, fantasy, horror poets then writing. I don't remember whether G. O. Clark was in that lineup, but I would not be surprised. Like Dark Regions, he has been around for a while. This new offering, Strange Vegetables, bears a nice colorful cover. The produce inside is black and white of course, but crisp and tasty.

Strange Vegetables contains 31 poems, many previously published in various periodicals. I published one in Dreams and Nightmares. The cover is an amusing tribute to "American Gothic." Interior art; that's a bit of lagniappe. Oh, and I didn't know Clark could draw. He is pretty good. Alas, he doesn't draw for the small press as far as I know, except here.

Clark frequently uses a deadpan style when describing far out situations, as in the title poem, or "Unusual employment opportunities."

Balloon artist needed for the
Annual Miskatonic Faire. Must have
own equipment, be open-minded,
and agree to sign waiver.

The style is well suited to dry humor, and the poems almost feel like that even when they really aren't funny. For example, "As if we could change anything."

As if Frankenstein could find a happy balance
between the sum of his parts.

Clark never seems to run out of this kind of zinger. Poems range from the silly, to serious with and without puns, to sharp as knives. Whether making an analogy between the life of a snail and the search for extraterrestrial intelligence ("In the shadow of Aricebo"), or comparing the movement of galaxies to human interactions ("Shiner"), Clark's observations are right on the money.

Most of these poems are science fiction, sensu stricto. Even when looking at concepts invented by H. P. Lovecraft or Mary Shelley, Clark tends to look at them with a precise and naturalistic eye. I love this cross-genre use of the authorial lens. Whether you pick up a pair of science-fiction spectacles or another it makes no difference. Previously neglected aspects of old works are examined or displayed. For me, this only adds to the beauty that was already there. Then again, most of these poems are science fiction, but not all. "Naked angel" includes these lines:

My body is of
two minds, one pulsing
with the blood of unreason,
the other, thoughts impure.

There is more, much more: a tale of a considerate and most unusual hourly companion, a steampunk robot, artificial poets, religious dystopias, excommunicated deities, imprisoned rulers, monsters, and so on. I think I let slip that I like this book. Enough said.