“In his debut book, Mammal Pit, a book-length lyric poem, Wallace meditates upon the insistence of death on this sublunary world. The meditation is revery upon the nature and presence of death. The poet offers his readers the quick-shifting illogic of a Dadaist, the splendid and obsessive image-making of a Surrealist, and a Confessional mode that reveals as much as it conceals, that gives then takes back, only to give again. As we follow the mutability of his thinking, Wallace is as funny as he is solemn. The speaker of this poem is particular and peculiar, an individual and an everyman. Like Whitman, he is a singular I who contains multitudes. As well, the poet contains and reveals to us the deep lonely distances we call America.”

Eric Pankey, author of "Lunar Calendar"

“An unbroken cascade of memory and desire, slapstick and outrage, remorse and wonder—presided over by the most ancient lyric attendants, death and the moon—Mammal Pit invokes classics of modern American poetry from Allen Ginsberg’s Howl to Joe Brainard’s I Remember. This is a Künstlerroman, a protest against extinction, a love poem, an absurdist’s memory palace, and a book of reluctant prayer. Wallace makes an exuberant self-portrait from identity and non-identity, attaining to the elemental, the shamanic, and the metaphysical—laughing all the way home.”

Srikanth Reddy, Phoenix Poets series editor and author of "Underworld Lit"