Latest Playlist
Galería
Playlist by Ugly Duckling Presse"Like the razor blade that slices open in the eye-moon at the beginning of Chien Andalou, Alanís-García’s Galería is a drastic and radiant maneuver. What drips from this golden-throat is the full goat-song of art and longing, the violence of exile and the ecstasy of oscillation in the no-place-like-home" — Joyelle McSweeney "Edwin Alanís-García’s poems are ekphrastic, referential and expatriative – they are poems that wear their mediation on their sleeves – but they also manage to feel urgent and beautiful. This is how Alanís-García proves that the poet is not just a liar but an alchemist." — Johannes GöranssonView playlist to continue readingPlaylists from Recent Book Releases
Featured on June 24, 2019
Cruel Fiction
Playlist by Wendy TrevinoCruel Fiction brings together new material with celebrated work, including the provocative and charged “Brazilian Is Not a Race,” a sonnet sequence meditating on race, nation, and history seen from the author’s native Rio Grande Valley. This is a spectacular debut trying to puzzle though the insurgencies, context, and kinesis of our present, from the workplace to the pop charts but most of all to the politics of struggle. “Wendy Trevino is my leader in craft. Cruel Fiction is my courage before a county judge. Born captive, I am inspired to at least take back my likeness. Against industrialists who know that in fire we are at home. One more poem could put the ghetto on the brink of irreversible rebellion. The continuum of slave fields will all know justice and Trevino has a proletariat story for every city this side of 2008.” — Tongo Eisen-Martin, California Book Award 2018View playlist to continue readingFeatured on June 17, 2019
while they sleep (under the bed is another country)
Playlist by Birds LLCwhile they sleep (under the bed is another country) refuses to sweep up the shards of Hurricane María’s aftermath. Written in dialogic fragments and interspersed with prose poems reflecting on the lasting impact of colonial trauma, it is arranged around the two different discourses. The bed on which America sleeps, and which America has made, is built on the fear that the nations it has oppressed will rise up against it, a monstrous shadow in a child’s nightmare. Written in English, while they sleep points to a imperialist American identity: the dormant body of the text. Answering in Spanish, under the bed is another country is the footnote, the monster under the bed, the colony: Puerto Rico. "Flatly, this is among the most moving books of crisis I have read in more than two decades by a frighteningly talented poet." —Samuel R. Delany, author of Dhalgren and Through the Valley of the Nest of Spiders "Out of the impossible, writing the endless lines of the disaster, Raquel Salas Rivera has been talking to us all along." —Fred Moten, author of B Jenkins and The Feel Trio "Salas Rivera, with stunning clarity, juxtaposes the hollow language of witness with the embodied language of survival, drowned out by the colonial grammars of institutional violence, bureaucracy, and performative politics." —Vanessa Angélica Villarreal, author of Beast Meridian "This is a book with its form as the heart that is its motor and both its center and its shield." —Anne Boyer, author of A Handbook of Disappointed Fate and The Undying "Porque el huracán no solo impactó la isla sino también su lenguaje, y es con esas palabras rotas que Raquel Salas Rivera ha escrito este libro conmovedor y tan urgente.” —Frank Báez, autor de PostalesView playlist to continue readingFeatured on June 10, 2019