Wrong Heaven AgainRyan Eckes Wrong Heaven Again, says the rabbit to the real estate. The poem wont go away. You drive the car to work for an earth of its excrement. When the boss says flexibility, the grave keeps singing. The grave keeps singing, who built this city, that city? Who speaks for you when you speak? The latest apple ad says let loose. Okay. Light is a capital blown apart. No spoilers. You write your name down on the envelope and it disappears. We discuss

As in the singularity of a black hole

The Big Nada

and the dead

and has included all of the futurist and feminist satires

om de versluierende taal waarachter de politiek zich verhult bloot te leggen

De dichteres ontving voor haar oeuvre de Constantijn Huygensprijs in 1974 en de P

and consequently Alice Iris Red Horse is as much a book on translation as it is a book in translation

’ Fourth Person Singular continues to blow open the relationship between self and world in a working through of lyric shame

Capildeo entices us to enter conversations with others (dead and living)

This is a handbook with a ravenous audacity instructing and warning doubly how to halve a narcissus

Livia Azevedo Lima)

Latin and pillage