Dereliction

Award-winning poet Danez Smith is a groundbreaking force, celebrated for deft lyrics, urgent subjects, and performative power. Don’t Call Us Dead opens with a heartrending sequence that imagines an afterlife for black men shot by police, a place where suspicion, violence, and grief are forgotten and replaced with the safety, love, and longevity they deserved here on earth. Smith turns then to desire, mortality—the dangers experienced in skin, body, and blood—and a diagnosis of HIV positive. “some of us are killed / in pieces,” Smith writes, “some of us all at once.” Don’t Call Us Dead is an astonishing collection, one that confronts America where every day is too often a funeral and not often enough a miracle. 

Danez Smith is the author of [insert] boy, winner of the Lambda Literary Award for Gay Poetry and the Kate Tufts Discovery Award. Smith has received fellowships from the McKnight Foundation and the Poetry Foundation, and lives in Minneapolis.

In Noah Ross's new book THE DOGS, Ross opens the question of authority and possession in what he deems an illicit act of translation. THE DOGS may begin with Herve Guibert's Les Chiens, but through multiple reiterations of translation, Guibert's text ultimately meets Ross to celebrate, among other sources, Marie de France, Teen Wolf, Auden, and Dom Orejudos in establishing a unique pack of hungry werewolves. You know what happens when werewolves get together: the play can get a little rough. THE DOGS empowers these snarls and yips, growls and howls, on the level of the sentence in translation as much as the embodied erotogenic zones of the body.

Here the mirror image of the almost hallucinatory, heart-rending loss of the familiar is literary defamiliarization. Arsanios both mourns and blasts apart the notion of the mother tongue, reminding us that for each “mother tongue” at least another tongue is silenced. Desire propels her genre-defying writing, which grief notwithstanding still manages to tongue languages, and that is her genius. — Mónica de la Torre

Mirene Arsanios is the author of the short story collection The City Outside the Sentence (Ashkal Alwan). She has contributed essays and short stories to e-flux journal, Vida, The Brooklyn Rail, The Rumpus, and Guernica, among others. Arsanios co-founded the collective 98weeks Research Project in Beirut and is the founding editor of Makhzin, a bilingual English/Arabic magazine for innovative writing. She teaches at Pratt Institute and holds an MFA in Writing from the Milton Avery Graduate School for the Arts at Bard College. Arsanios currently lives in New York where she was a 2016 LMCC Workspace fellow, and an ART OMI resident in fall 2017. With Rachel Valinsky, she coordinated the Friday night reading series at the Poetry Project from 2017–19.

18 Brum’Hair est un recueil de poèmes écrits à quatre mains par Martin Desinde et Phœbe Hadjimarkos-Clarke au rythme du calendrier révolutionnaire. Si son titre fait référence—non sans un humour capillotracté—au coup d’État de Louis Bonaparte et au livre de Karl Marx traitant du dit-sujet, les auteur·ice·s écrivent ici en ping-pong sur notre temps présent et divaguent autour de sujets divers tels que l’état du monde, la vie urbaine, les drogues et l’alcool, la séduction, la sexualité, l’amour, le chagrin, l’amitié, la révolution... Ces 18 poèmes sont accompagnés de 12 allégories dessinées par Flore Chemin.
Un 18 brumaire littéraire, sans doute plus proche de la farce que de la tragédie.

Martin Desinde est auteur, éditeur et graphiste installé à Paris. Son travail fait dialoguer poésie et idéologie au travers de multiples formes: textes, objets éditoriaux, ready-mades, performances... Il fonde en 2017 la maison d'édition Dépense Défensive avec l’artiste Louis Somveille.

Phœbe Hadjimarkos-Clarke écrit des romans et des poésiesoù elle explore la vie organique et sentimentale au temps du capitalisme tardif. Elle vit dans de grandes villes et de petits villages.

Flore Chemin vit et travaille entre Paris et la Corrèze, sa pratique s’articule autour de la peinture, l’édition et l’installation. Elle y cultive une esthétique de l’à peu près qui répond à divers principes: faire d’abord / comprendre après, rester floue.s pour résister sous cape, inviter le monstre et les mauvaises herbes au cœur du jardin.