October Mourning

I’ll admit, I hesitated before hitting play. Another story about Matthew Shepard? What could possibly feel fresh? Then the first poem—*‘The Fence (That Night)’*—hit me, narrated by Tom Parks in a voice so flat and heavy it sounded like the wood itself was speaking. That’s when I realized: this isn’t a book *about* Matthew. It’s a book about *complicity*. The poems give voice to objects and bystanders, and the narration team leans into that eerie detachment. Nick Podehl’s turn as the truck that carried Shepard is chillingly matter-of-fact, while Kate Rudd’s delivery of *‘The Stars’* feels like a whispered accusation. The production is minimalist but *intentionally* uneven—some poems are read with icy calm, others with a tremor that suggests suppressed rage. The pacing is where this audiobook stumbles slightly. At times, the abrupt shifts between narrators and perspectives can feel jarring, like channel-surfing through a nightmare. And while the brevity is a strength (no fat here), a few poems—like *‘The Deer’*—end so abruptly they left me scrambling to rewind. Still, the cumulative effect is devastating. The final poem, *‘October Mourning’*, read by Christina Traister with a slow, funeral march cadence, doesn’t offer closure. It *denies* it. That’s the point. This isn’t an audiobook to ‘enjoy’ or even ‘appreciate’—it’s one to *witness*. Best listened to in one sitting, preferably alone, with the lights on. You’ll need them.