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    Dolphin Aria/Limited Hours: A Love Song by Luke McMullan

    Luke McMullan is prising the nails out of the lyric and holding it ethically accountable for any passivity that might lurk in its corridors. This is a call to occupy, to resist the feasting and destruction. As 'we all dance the liberty frogmarch', he reprocesses the responsibilities of speculating and creating the spectacle of consumer lives. What stuns in this sequence is the performative quality of the work as it negotiates subtle moments of utterance and gesture. — John Kinsella
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    I, THE WORST OF ALL by Estela Lamat Translated by Michael Leong

    I, the Worst of All is a complex and heterogeneous book that combines Lamat's intense, almost manic lyricism with her prodigious mythopoeic imagination. The result is a challenging and ambitious project that invites multiple readings and rewards extended lingerings within its dense, linguistic thicket…This book quite literally takes your breath away–because of the demanding pace of Lamat's language
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    Ruin by Luke McMullan

    ‘The Ruin’ is the remaining fragment of an eighth-century Anglo-Saxon poem that describes the collapsed arches and rubble-strewn site of the old Roman baths at the city of Bath. Here Luke McMullan offers a translation in two strands that cross—poem and gloss—with the generous gift also of a scaffolding: word-tables that reveal for a reader the possible constellations of meanings of the poem’s key words, situating this gorgeous text within the history of its previous translation. —Lisa Robertson
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    “now, 1/3” and thepoem by Demosthenes Agrafiotis | Translated by John Sakkis and Angelos Sakkis

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    "A book of temporally organized form that renounces time, that disassembles form. Demosthenes Agrafiotis' poetry argues, chafes, bristles, and unrelentingly chomps at the bit of its own constraint, as well as at every other human construct, linguistic or otherwise, that might serve as a convenient container for consciousness. ""now, 1/3"" is an extraction of sand from the hourglass… as if the sand weren't free to begin with. —Harold Abramowitz
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