"When someone asks me what a poet is, I answer: the one who changes (is changing) the definition of what a poet is. Gabriel Palacios, for example: he’s an urban archeologist, hauntologist, holographer, oral cartographer, de-mosaicist, muralist, and all of these as a poet. A Ten Peso Burial is the evidence. It is both a book-length mural being painted on something that is always moving (i.e. constant traffic), and the study, years later, of that mural, through the scraping away of its faded mask to reveal the neon historama underneath, still in the process of being painted."
–Brandon Shimoda

"A Ten Peso Burial For Which Truth I Sign defies containment, resists explanation. Palacios writes from within the blink, in the glitched dark of eternal betweens, with the entwined laughters of engine oil & etymology. Codes of language switch with the muscle-memory of glitter, so words evolve into music right there on the page, spit onto the skin of your wrists to dry in the breath of the motel’s air conditioning. A Ten Peso Burial for which Truth I Sign is for everyone who gives a shit about what poetry can say that words cannot say."
–Mathias Svalina