Tom Burckhardt's book page works are built from ripped out pages of the once-coherent sequential narrative encapsulated between two covers. Once freed, shuffled and combined with other text pages they start to invite the viewer to compose a kind of poetry concrete, a murder wall, or a listicle. All these texts speak to the slippery sense of deliberate meaning, leaving the contemporary tone poem of politics, tension and more questions than answers. Living uncomfortably with this are the visuals, not illustrational, but often rhapsodic and beautiful, attempting to cool the texts like a butter pat.