Romanda’s poetry is a bull in the vacuum of silence and space, the crystal of intimacy at times delicate or desperate, sometimes humorous or reluctant, always surprising.

~ Miriam Calleja, author of Come Closer,
   I Don’t Mind the Silence

There is no pussy-footing around, there is no hemming and hawing, there are only blunt truths. With acute observations and cutting humor, David Romanda shapes the satire driving these misleadingly simple, sometimes tender, prosaic poems. Whether we are smiling (“My Father on a Windy Day”) or not (a poem about suicide), we are stimulated by this refreshingly candid collection.

~ Concetta Principe, author of This Real

Romanda’s poems approach their subjects on the sly, focusing on moments of surprise, an unexpected event or turn of phrase disrupting our taken-for-granted world. A new cat is named after a dead wife; a mother tears up a parking ticket and pieces it together in front of her child; a shop keeper recommends a specific style of facial hair. Threaded through the poems is a dark delight as well – Romanda pays attention to the human impulse towards avoidance, and the humour that arises as a result. Through short, carefully-observed vignettes a portrait of existence comes into focus. Absurdity, terror, boredom and wonder are all there, thrumming like a motor, propelling us forward.

~ Ben Gallagher, author of A Grief Cave