Ron Raye’s The Mole Vol XX: Incident in Central Park is a poetic epic wrapped in a visceral, lyrical indictment of violence, racial injustice, and urban decay. The book tells the haunting story of a brutal crime—a female jogger attacked in Central Park—and the social and legal chaos that follows. Through a blend of poetry, reflection, and fragmented narrative, the book shifts between voices: the victim, the accused, the city, and even the moral shadows that linger long after the violence. Raye explores the broken systems that prosecute, punish, and fail, evoking the real-life tragedy of the Central Park Five while drawing attention to the cycles of trauma and systemic neglect that fuel it.

The poetry slams you with a kind of lyrical aggression, like it wants to make sure you don’t look away. The repetition of certain phrases—especially the ominous refrain, “I am the beginning and the hour of your birth”—creates a haunting rhythm that stalks you page to page. At times, the writing feels like a fever dream, jumping from metaphor to memory to rage. Some of the poems could’ve used a tighter edit; they wander. But maybe that’s the point. Trauma doesn’t tell stories in straight lines. And this book doesn’t try to make you comfortable—it asks you to feel the weight of what’s been done.

The ideas behind the poetry stuck with me. Raye writes with fire about systemic racism, the criminalization of Black youth, and the cheapening of Black life. He paints a terrifying New York where crime runs rampant, and justice is often just a show. There’s anger here, and grief, and moments of forgiveness so unexpected they feel like tiny miracles. The victim’s voice, when it comes through, is particularly powerful—never just helpless, but complex, broken, healing. The sections that directly critique police methods and forced confessions are some of the strongest in the book, punching right through the haze of poetic abstraction to confront injustice head-on.

The Mole Vol XX is for people who are ready to stare into hard truths, who want literature that doesn’t flinch. If you’re a fan of experimental poetry, social justice writing, or gritty urban storytelling with a conscience, The Mole Vol XX will stay with you. It’s a heavy, unruly, necessary book. For those who can handle the chaos, this is a powerful howl from the margins.

Pages: 482 | ASIN: B0F9B25YY3