Recollection, it appears, is a critical aspect to Keith Murray's poems, serving him well in these intimate narratives. Existence itself is measured and studied, opening with a portrayal of cosy flat life and ending with the austere existence endured at Auschwitz. In between, though, and above all, lies the matter of love, where a density of feelings is tangible, and aching reflections are like an umbra on the page. Sometimes political, always the dreamer; herein lie poems that rain and shine, where pigeons feed from his library hands and herring are framed in the shores of time....

Douglas W. Gray

Keith Murray was born in a windy April five decades ago. He has written at least one good poem during each of those decades. He believes that the weight of the world could break his back the way a straw could. That's what he expects from a life full of ups and downs. But he's a survivor and he's back. The camel's definitely back. He runs a small press (Malfranteaux Concepts) while running enough water for coffee and baths. He enjoys life, and spending time with his dad and friends.