Crase is the master of complex, sinuous sentences that twist and loop and unfurl in the most unpredictable of ways—indeed navigating his poetic idiom can feel a bit like riding the rapids. The title poem in particular succeeds in conjugating the mysteries of our planetary existence with an eloquence and sweep I found at once dizzying and uplifting.
The Astropastorals, at minimum, serves as a reminder that the history we are brooks no conclusion, so that it remains in continual need of revisionists (and therefore of The Revisonist). Crase’s first book is not, after all, a closed case, a done deal. We still need him.
— Barry Schwabsky, Hyperallergic