It’s whimsy, but whimsy tainted with the whiff of the dead, with elegy, that makes Reiss a poet of power: he transports us to childhood and wonder, he instructs us in death with colour, all in the same poem. He tells it slant; there are no been-there-done-that anecdotage poems in Distance From the Locus; there are only poems with intent, pressingly.
—Shane Neilson, PoetryReviews.ca
Copies are available from Mother Tongue Publishing.