Navigating life as a spiritual exile in Barcelona, Spain-riding metros, eating hamburgers, waking up to the sound of motorcycles and ambulances-Joseph asks himself, "Where do I belong?" No city in this present world, Babylon, will do.
His poetry sings, mourns, investigates, complains, and wonders about life in Babylon, before Babylon, beyond Babylon, and with others in Babylon. In his first poetry volume, Joseph's heart cries out that he belongs to the city to come after Babylon, where the noise, Will sweep us off our feet
And carry us in a single chorus
Of perfect harmony and rhythm
Into the arms of the one who plays
The heavens
As both the master and masterpiece himself. -from "The Death of Earthly Song"
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