J. Michael Wahlgren’s Chariots of Flame is like a ripe berry: there’s a lot of juice packed
into such a small package. The variety of poems in the chapbook is astonishing.
Wahlgren is equally adept at the short poem, as in "Notes," and the longer lines of
"Arms." Read in one sitting the collection ebbs and flows smoothly, but you could
be forgiven for stopping and chewing some of the meatier poems. "Is it safe to say I
lost my way" begins one of those, entitled "August Deluge." But Wahlgren doesn’t
lose his way. His small collection moves like a speed-drunk road trip. And when he
reaches the end with the powerful "Contradiction" you understand that the journey
has been a spiritual quest, like all speed-drunk trips. "I write/as a way to behave,"
Wahlgren says, and I can’t remember a more succinct reason for the quest.

Corey Mesler, author of Some Identity Problems