Books

EcoRove’s Land Keepers Reader brings together writers, activists, journalists, farmers, and ecologists from across Bilad al-Sham — Lebanon, Syria, and Palestine — to tell stories of green resistance in the Jabal al-Sheikh ecological zone. Spanning South Lebanon, the occupied Jawlan, and the occupied Galilee, this landscape faces ongoing ecocide, defined as the deliberate destruction of land and ecologies used by the settler-colonial regime to erode livelihoods, cultures, and environments. The Reader highlights these struggles through essays, research and testimonies that show how native communities remain rooted in place, resisting colonial environmental orientalism, greenwashing, and scorched-earth tactics. As part of a wider body of work that includes a documentary film, tapestries, and sculptural pieces, the Reader amplifies indigenous ecological knowledge and envisions regenerative futures for threatened landscapes.

with contributions by Mahdi Sabbagh, Hamza Hamouchene, Public Works, Hussein Chaabane, Hisham Younes, Nadine El-Khoury, Michelle Eid, and Munira Khayyat

From the intro by Ecorove:
"Return, Al’Awda in Arabic, signals the right of return to homeland, a central tenet of the Palestinian struggle. Al’Awda affirms the fundamental historical, legal, collective, and individual right of Palestinians to return to their homeland. But how do we return to the earth after it has been damaged and scorched? In landscapes marked by war, ruins, rubbles, and ecological destruction, can Al’Awda take another form? Can generations of Palestinian diaspora exercise Al’Awda differently? At a time when international legal systems and institutions have failed to secure justice, can return to land be understood beyond legal definitions alone? In times of mass displacement and ecological devastation, Al’Awda may therefore exceed juridical meaning, and live through those who remain on the land and their acts of love, labour, and agriculture."

Each book comes with a 2-color, double-sided risograph-printed bookmark.
Ecorove is Iyad Abou Gaida and Jumanah Abbas.

The fifth issue of Rab-Rab: Journal of Political and Formal Inquiries in Art includes stories about nation traitors, fierce masses, socialist women struggles, love-forms, psychedelic counter-revolutionaries, workers unions, Brecht fiddlers, jazz surrealism, Soviet trains, and anti-fascism.

Among the contributors to the fifth issue are Anna Thew, Yehuda Safran, Peter Gidal, Cana Bilir-Meier, David Black, Marjo Liukkonen, Alejandro Pedregal, Peter Hallward, Minna Henriksson, and Jyrki Siukonen.

It has also two extensive dossiers. One dedicated to Franklin Rosemont is presented by Joe Feinberg and is introducing some unpublished and difficult to find texts parallel with writings of T-Bone Slim and Joe Hill. The other dossier on Robert Linhart is presented by Tevfik Rada, and it includes a translation of a chapter from Linhart's book on productivism, an article against Western bourgeois dissidents, and an interview with him.

M was exasperated by her friend's frivolous attitude toward the tragedy of losing a role. She was not trained to read the potential in R's wild imagination. Was it a commitment to realism, trained by the ideological morality of activism, that made her unresposive to the fantasy genre and vigilante characters? R's instinct was to court the unfamiliar, whereas M's training was to engage with criticality. Both these attributes could have interfaced in interesting and colourful ways, with sparks and currents, if and only if the social conditions of the time had been conducive to the arrival of a vigilante.

Madhusree Dutta is a filmmaker, curator and author based in Mumbai and Berlin. She has been the executive director of Majlis Culture, a centre for rights discourse and art initiatives in Mumbai, 1998-2016; and artistic director of Academy of the Arts of the World in Cologne, 2018-2021. Her areas of interest are documentary practices, urban cultures, migration movements, transient identities, and lived-in hybridity.

Handmade artist's book combining drawings, photographs, and archival materials. This publication reflects on the YouYou Group's ten-year journey and its evolving relationship with space. It marks a transitional moment from the group's long-term engagement with public space toward a growing understanding of spatiality and collective presence.

YouYou Group is a Belgian choir that specializes in what is known in Arabic as zaghareed. This trilling cry is used by women at weddings and festive occasions, but also at funerals. Youyou is the French name for zaghareed. Depending on the regional origin, it is also called kululu, tsahalulim, or irrintzi. It is a long, shrill tone that is modulated (by the throat, glottis, or rapid tongue movements) and can be heard from far away. Brussels artist Myriam Van Imschoot was one of the founders of this singing group.

Abandoned by their Dutch partner after giving up their home and their job to follow him to the Netherlands, humanities scholar Seasonal finds themself single in a strange place for the first time in a decade. 

Dipping into the rabbit hole of digital eroticism, Seasonal soon meets László, a male sub who volleys back their cerebral sexts and is seeking a  dominant guide. His dating-app profile—a photo of Foucault and the  ingenuous greeting “Hello, World?”—thinly veils his desire to be annihilated. It's a desire that Seasonal senses they can fulfill. But to do this means crossing the frightening gap between their desires and capacities.  

Seasonal and László embark on an experiment in remaking intimacy outside the Republic of Gender. But as it continues, the two realize they are staging separate confrontations with domination: Seasonal finds they must confront their own relation to the violence and anger that marked their upbringing in working-class, small-town Australia, while László stages his own confrontation with his  decision to leave Viktor Orbán’s Hungary. As they attempt to improvise a  theater of domination that opens up possibilities of reciprocity, the energies of their sexuality stalk this collaboration, threatening to give them exactly what they bargained or begged for. 

A feminist paean to perversity in the tradition of Pauline Réage’s Story of O and Anaïs Nin's Delta of Venus, Anna Poletti's hello, world? dares to fully inhabit female power, and to fully face the violence, beauty, and uncharted territories of human sexuality.

Mystique des rues vides et peu éclatantes des banlieues pavillonnaires, ce court poème en prose interpelle par sa langue sombre. Dans une parodie de messe noire – beigeasse comme le crépis des façades –, Théo Robine-Langlois dépeint le monde mystérieux des maisons individuelles, du repli sur soi démonique, et des vieilles qui marmonnent entre leurs gencives au retour du marché, le panier plein de gros sel et de radis noirs en guise d'hostie. Les mots occitans qui ponctuent le texte comme des conjurations en accroissent l’escur.

Maura Modeya’s SAPPHO TERROR is a book haunted—by empire, by sleeplessness, by Sappho herself. In it, queerness becomes both the agent of terror and its object. “I want to be consumed. I want to disappear twice.” Extending the experiments of Mayer, Lonidier, and Stein, Modeya’s poems are as much about desire as they are about violence. They let us in on a secret: “Logic sometimes is so disgusting.” At once delirious and hyperalert, performance and document of a performance, SAPPHO TERROR disrupts the routines of everyday life from within. “Tending to the eros of writing something down.”

A fist is something that blooms inside a lover, a hand held up in revolutionary camaraderie, and the weapon of bare-knuckle combat. In Maura Modeya’s SAPPHO TERROR, the poet probes, in a language that possesses an addictive deliquescence, the body as policy and the devotional as daily, where intimacy is all at once risked, tenderized, and disciplined. We begin in a space of betweenness—between street and bed, between conquest and abandon—and are then submerged into tidal pools of sleeplessness where the poet is overtaken, exquisitely, by forces beyond themselves. Sculpted into vigilant word-reliquaries, these poems exalt the femi-themme of the night while holding fast to danger. Inside this edge-space lives the chasm—the danger that lives in the distance from one edge to another—where sex, politics, and liminal states of consciousness collide, exposing how power is enforced, negotiated, and sometimes utterly undone through the body. —Valerie Hsiung

In SAPPHO TERROR Maura Modeya drifts with eros between the “war intestine,” and a restless dreamscape where desire demands disorientation and the rapture of invasion teeters in tension between queer love and the horrors of militaristic and domestic terrorism. Modeya offers us a vulnerable and familiar sorrow: “Why when I want to speak of love, violence surfaces?” In communion with Sappho’s fragments—those invocations of desire intensified by their historical devastation—Modeya’s poems project that eros is to want is to risk.

Leaning into the “deathless language” of queer love, Modeya allows herself to be haunted by the unreasonable logic of eros and finds herself caught between an insomnia that threatens the poet’s coherence of self, and a sleep that risks waking to the repulsive logics adorning our daily violences.In striking and visceral exhaustion, this book performs the desire of possession—by a lover, by language, by loss. SAPPHO TERROR brings us into the poet’s rapture, one that is profoundly balanced between the paradoxical and perilous forces of eros. —Serena Chopra

What arises out of sleeplessness? In SAPPHO TERROR, all boundaries fall away into ritual. There is a permeability, an eros, a freedom from all structures and institutions, even from our own self. Our human guardrails fall away to a place where we forget the boots on our necks, that our money buys weapons for the state, or even that we are separate unique beings. Is it wrong to forget, or is it a healing? Perhaps both. Modeya says that in sleeplessness, “to submit means to surrender into what is wanted so badly.” In the face of terror, our letting go is a kind of purity. It tells us we can travel beyond repression, not to escape, but to reach the most natural state of our being, even before survival. It is a reminder of life. —Samuel Ace

Maura Modeya’s SAPPHO TERROR takes back Plato’s Cave for the dykes. In these poems eros’ shadows reign sovereign: language is chained and casts haptic forms onto Modeya’s bedroom wall lit by Sappho’s famous fires. These poems join her chorus of “You Burn Me” with the desperate velocity only the insomniac knows. Modeya’s verse is exquisite and relentless, creaking out of the dead of night, bargaining for the possibility of touch. An assembly of aching towardness, SAPPHO TERROR is part elegy, part manifesto, part love letter that sabotages the war intestines we live in order to undivide us from our desire. —Rosie Stockton

Strange Biology, Charlotte Strange’s first chapbook, opens with a social media advertisement marketing a probiotic as an alternative to the “nuclear bomb” of antibacterial acne medication. As Strange investigates the treatment of the human body as a landscape submissive to medical intervention, they ruminate on the contemporary relationship between microbes, gut-directed medical technologies, and capitalism’s encroachment on life. Drawing on the vernacular of social media marketing, they deftly oscillate between instructive and personal registers, stretching the private across a nexus of microbial interminglings. Strange Biology reflects on the semiotic science of the gut: how the language of medicine defines the mutating edges of the human body. 

Log: Notes on Building-with documents the construction of a wooden structure in Topolò/Topolove and expands it into a reflection on craft, collaboration and situated making. Through photographs and texts, the book approaches the idea of building-with from four different angles: building-with context, building-with materials, building-with tools and building-with others.

Contributions by: Diogo Amaro, Antônio Frederico Lasalvia, Elena Rucli, Madalena Vidigal, Ola Korbańska, Aljaž Škrlep.

A weaving draft is a kind of notation for planning and sharing woven textil structures. The threading, along the top, shows how the warp is threaded through the heddles and frames; the treadling, along the right-hand side, show the order in which the treadles of the loom are to be pressed; and the tie-up, in the upper right-hand corner, shows how each treadle interacts with the loom’ frames. The drawdown, in the lower left, shows whether the warp or weft will be on top at any particular intersection of threads—thereby providing a “preview” of the completed textile. Often a draft diagram will indicate the intended color of the warp and weft threads, and the drawdown will show the completed textile’s color patterns. In “Drafts,” Allison uses letters instead of colors, melding digital weaving with writing.

WITHOUT THE E is a series of pamphlets responding to a presence or an absence felt in contemporary digital culture.

OEI #80-81 is not an anthological publication, and has no representative ambition. It is a montage-based publication trying, in as material a way as possible, to register, prolong, transform and reflect upon energies from the work of Portuguese artist Ernesto de Sousa and his fellows (Alberto Carneiro, Túlia Saldanha, Álvaro Lapa, Fernando Calhau, Lourdes Castro, Ana Vieira, Ana Hatherly, E.M. de Melo e Castro, António Barros...).

Ernesto de Sousa and his fellows defined themselves as aesthetic operators and worked as filmmakers, photographers, curators, critics, writers, folk art researchers, multimedia artists... OEI #80-81 also gathers texts on magazines such as Poesia Experimental, Operação, Nova, A Urtiga, and Alternativa; and works by artists from younger generations such as Isabel Carvalho, Paulo Mendes and Mariana Silva, in dialogue with that of de Sousa.

"In Spring and All, William Carlos Williams figures imagination as the springing off point to greater connection with the world and its gentle motions. ‘It is spring,’ he writes: ‘life again begins to assume its normal appearance as of “today.” Only the imagination is undeceived.’ Embracing the haecceity of the everyday and allowing the imagination to make silent and surprising connections are ways to withhold the deceptiveness of relying on old habits of thinking and writing. 

Ziddy Ibn Sharam’s Working Museum begins with another quotation from Spring and All: ‘There is not confusion – only difficulties’, and the sequence offers delicate, poetical examinations how the confusions and frustrations of interpersonal communication are beneficent difficulties to be embraced and considered in gentle depth. This is a gorgeous sequence of poems, offering generous, gracious and graceful glimpses of a family’s birthday pilgrimage to Amberley Museum and Heritage Centre in Sussex. Working Museum is a tour de force of delicate poetry of feelings and feeling through feelings in a world of wordless connections and contacts, navigating the liminal but intimately understood spaces between two brothers and their family. In these poems, 

Sharam is trying to be still in language, as smiles, touches and profound intimacies are exchanged. Observing and being in his brother’s presence during this special time of spring, Sharam re-learns to experience, to become ‘plugged’ in, as he writes, to new ‘switchboards’ of sensation, thought and poetic possibility. The ‘old machines’ of mental expectation and habit are, in the presence of his other-sensing brother, found wanting for the appreciation of his ‘intellect just as it is’. Here, Sharam learns to ‘do things minimally’ and to revel in the ‘seismic proportions’ of the apparently mundane. Sharam and his readers are offered a space to share in a brother’s beautifully vivid world and are privileged to witness a profound, ‘beginning, // again." - Gareth Farmer

For decades, Fanny Howe has been the great poet of spirit and conscience, dislocation and bewilderment. In This Poor Book, completed just before her death, she assembled a selection of her writing from the last thirty years into a single, astonishing work.

Fanny Howe is a titan. Absolutely nobody writes like her. Nobody sounds like her. This Poor Book is a miracle she left for us. —Kaveh Akbar

This Poor Book is revelatory and casts Howe’s poetry in a new light, and for those who don’t know her work already, this is a perfect introduction. Fanny Howe is an essential poet. —Rae Armantrout

Fanny Howe spoke about “the difficulty of reconciling multiple registers of consciousness and language. Soul and sticky atoms.” In This Poor Book she delineates and shifts between these layers to conjure a bewildering yet ultimately galvanizing evocation of the human psyche. We are being warned every day that robots and software will soon replace us. Howe’s poetry makes clear that such a notion is based upon a very limited conception of what it is to be a human. We are complex. We are mysterious. We don’t make sense. We do make sense. You will lose and you will find yourself in her words. — Claire-Louise Bennett

This Poor Book is a testament to Fanny Howe’s life and writing. In it, she wields her powers of perception for a long poem that turns inward on the self and out at the world and in every other direction the poet can imagine with lines that speak directly and always suggest more than they say: “There is a little trouble in my eye.” The irony and beauty of its final line—“There was no more reason to die”—will be with me for as long as my memory of Fanny Howe herself. — Jericho Brown

In her final act of literary alchemy, Fanny Howe gathers the scattered constellations of her astonishing life work and forges them into a single unwavering spiritual reckoning. At the dynamic center of the poem, a live beating heart moves through a fractured world—haunted by power, estranged from institutions, yet fiercely open to mystery. There’s a radical humility here, paired with a radiant understanding—that doubt can be a form of faith, and that hope, when unflinching, is the most defiant music of all. This Poor Book is for the ages. — Peter Gizzi

This Poor Book is an astonishing document by an irreplaceable poet. A palimpsest of decades’ worth of writing, assembled here into a long poem as fractured and multitudinous as life itself, Fanny Howe’s last work captures the brutality and beauty of the modern world better than almost anything else I’ve read: “The structure failed to cohere at the end of the struggle. / It had some music in it.” — Maggie Millner

Through Fanny Howe's eyes we look at life differently. She makes us understand that we are part of a mysterious and complex world; one which we urgently need to be receptive to. Beauty appears in unexpectedness, as in “flowers attract scissors” and “why does an eye evolve in the dark?” Who else could turn things upside down with such a sleight of hand? This Poor Book reads like the testament of a newly discovered life-form, offering vital messages from the past and into the future. — Celia Paul

At once evocative and subtly incisive Howe’s writing seems almost like a new language, a language that has been in hiding. She can make the familiar haunting and the ordinary a provocation. — Adam Phillips

This gorgeous final statement by one of our most perceptual writers is a work of accrued understanding. ... Fanny Howe leaves us with profound investigations into the capacity of words, of juxtaposition, what a line, a page, and a book can give. — Sarah Schulman

A long conversation about the work and life of Portuguese artist Ana Jotta, accompanied by 60 previously unpublished photographs of her homes (in Brazil, Morocco, and Zanzibar) and her years in theater in the late 1970s.

“Peau d’Ana” is a conversation with the Portuguese artist Ana Jotta (1946), conducted in January 2024 by Alice Dusapin, Martin Laborde, and Baptiste Pinteaux in the Lisbon apartment that Ana has occupied for over forty years. Through the history of both this unique place and the various other homes in which she has lived — Tangier, Madeira, Brazil, and the Portuguese countryside — Ana Jotta mischievously and playfully invites us to revisit fragments of her life. She discusses her childhood, her work as an actress and set designer, her first exhibitions in the mid-1980s, and her life in the studio. She talks about the importance of pleasure and frustration, her love of painting and literature, and the role of the irrational in her work. She shares her dislike of families, her friendships with artists and other animals, and the detours necessary for finding, and preserving, the energy essential for work… and for sleep. She disarms with the precision of her words, which describe a solitary, demanding, and profoundly vivid existence where mediocrity has no place. The interview, published in French and English, is accompanied by some sixty previously unpublished photographs and documents.

What began as a project responding to the fiftieth anniversary of the ‘end’ of the Vietnam War became a project of inhabiting the Movement Research Performance Journal (MRPJ) from within the landscape of contemporary Vietnamese performance art. The result, Issue #62, is a window onto a community of insiders who reflect a set of concerns, questions, historical trajectories, and aesthetic legacies that differ from what has more often been foregrounded in our U.S./New York City-centric publication. Like other documents of this kind, which endeavor to portray a performance scene that will be foreign to many readers, the texts from this group of intergenerational, contemporary artists demonstrate a careful navigation of the dialectics of inside and outside, self and other, performer and audience, seeing and being seen, that informs every exchange across cultural difference. 

The texts are also not monolithic, suggesting a range of relations to the Vietnam of the past and present, from within Vietnam’s national borders and among the diaspora. Especially for contributors living and working in Vietnam, writing has also been a practice of choreographing words within a political landscape where to speak publicly, in itself, is a performance of negotiated risk. Embracing the complexities of these differing positions has been the focus of our editorial process—one that has asked the editorial team to embrace the limits of our own knowledge, to recognize we will not be able to recognize all valences others may discover in these texts, and not to edit these layers out of the works that follows.

My Dead Book is a novel composed of nonlinear vignettes and fragments about a queer man approaching his fiftieth birthday who is haunted by insomnia and his past. In the dead of night, he remembers his friends who died in the late 1980s and 1990s, his years as a teenage throwaway and sex worker, and ruminates on working class survival, queer aging, AIDS, and whether he has outlived his place in the world.

“What a blistering book—with My Dead Book, Nate Lippens has created something truly fucking great. It's as if the storied stars of Lou Reed's 'Walk on the Wild Side' overshot Manhattan and wound up in Wisconsin, broke and blue with cold and depressed beyond belief by the thought that this nowhere is now home. It's a bitter pill, but I love bitterness, and who doesn't love pills?”— Derek McCormack, author of Castle Faggot

“There’s no doubt to this book. You’d think that was a flaw but it’s been burned away. My Dead Book is not short though it is brief. It’s loving, bittersweet, and actually courageous because it tells a story that is slightly unbearable because it’s all secret, awful hard bad secrets and funny as hell. Nate’s balancing act works because the heart of it (this novel) is true even though it’s often heartless. It’s simple. He knows what things are worth. When you need the sea or a bird they’re there like they never were before.”
— Eileen Myles, author of Afterglow

ROT is a publication reflecting the research “Wicked technology/Wild fermentation,” by Sara Manente that focuses on forms and practice of fermentation as ways to rethink bodies and their making. This glossy magazine performs research, aiming to infect the reader, and questioning how to spread, publish, and help the work survive. 

Sara Manente is a performance artist, dance maker and researcher born in Italy and living in Brussels. She is interested in narrowing the distance between the performer, the audience, and the work. Her research starts from a dance practice that problematizes perception, translation, and ways of doing. Her work comes out in hybrid forms: book launch, 3Dfilm, written text, interview, choreographic piece, workshop, telepathic experience, collaboration, et al.

Writing Out Loud is a publication that brings together the transcriptions of eight lectures by the artist Jon Mikel Euba that were live translated from Spanish to English during the course Action unites, words divide (On praxis, an unstated theory) at the DAI. The lectures were delivered across the academic year 2014 – 2015 at the invitation of If I Can’t Dance. They sit within a larger writing-centred project by the artist that he has pursued for almost a decade, through which he aims to define a form of praxis that could evolve into a technical theory.

STW, your favourite station! functioneert als een radioprogramma. Een boek dat lyrisch proza uitzendt van We make stuff up for a living (een CV medley) tot COMPUTER_SONG, een ceremoniële quiz met Adult Hood & Young als protagonisten, een grillige anekdote van iemand die zich ergert aan een Call Service, en meer! Thanks for tuning in!

OEI # 90-91: Sickle of Syntax & Hammer of Tautology offers the first English language overview of the history of concrete and visual poetry production in socialist Yugoslavia between 1968 and 1983.

By focusing on mass-produced examples of concrete poetry, this publication presents these poetic experiments as organically linked to social movements, critical theories, and youth cultural revolutions. In his extensive introduction, Sezgin Boynik, the guest editor of this special issue of OEI, discusses concrete and visual poetry in socialist Yugo-slavia as an uneven and combined development, and emphasizes its confrontational and organizational aspects.

By means of interviews, translations, reproductions, and theoretical and historical statements, OEI # 90-91 offers a picture of a very lively scene of concrete and visual poetry in Yugoslavia, which unfortunately is not as recognized interna-tionally as it would deserve.

Hoping that OEI # 90-91 could contribute to this task in a substantial way, we present episodes from the early years of OHO formation and its complex theories of words and things; an interview with Rastko Močnik on programmed art and political formalism; militant polemics of Goran Babić; Signalist contradictions; subjective structural devices of Judita Šalgo; zaum experiments of Vojislav Despotov; detective meta-texts of Slavoj Žižek; poetic self-management studies of Vujica Rešin Tucić; a feminist historicisation of Ažin school for experimental poetry; democratisation of visual poetry by Westeast; selections from special issues of the journals Pitanja, Problemi, Ulaznica, Dometi, Delo, Koraci, Vidik, Pegaz, and many other materials translated here for the first time and presented in one publication.

Encounters and Collisions brings together essays, interviews, and visual contributions that understand filmmaking as a political and collective act. Resulting from WET’s 2025 programme How to make films that not only question but remake the world?, there is an emphasis on making, and in particular the typically less visible aspects of filmmaking: the production methods, collaborations, and networks of relationships that enable and shape films. Paying close attention to form, the audiovisual practices reflected on here each understand that how we speak matters as much as what we speak about.

Across generations and geographies, the featured artists and filmmakers engage with feminist, decolonial, queer, anti-imperialist, and disability perspectives, amplifying voices often excluded from official histories and cinematic representations. The texts and works referenced demonstrate that a strong political impetus does not require didacticism, but can be formed through a commitment to reinvention, both of visual language and of production practices.

With Yulia Appen; Annabelle Aventurin; María Barea; Lorena Best, Julio Gonzales, Sara Lucia Guerrero, and Isabel Seguí; Yuliia Elyas; Marta Hryniuk; Med Hondo; Cannach MacBride; Alison O’Daniel; Sashko Protyah; Natalia Sorzano; Anastasia Shin; and Jaśmina Wójcik.

“I had a dream last night in which I was being escorted across the Styx Bridge by a serpent. The bridge, long and thin and seemingly suspended in space, impressed me, and I asked the serpent who it was that had built it. He said something, but I cannot remember what. Upon awakening, I felt terribly lost. It seemed clear to me that my nights were being controlled by mystic forces.”

This 32-page chapbook is an “occult diary” of sorts.

BRENDAN CONNELL was born in Santa Fe, New Mexico, in 1970. He has had fiction published in numerous places, including McSweeney’s, Adbusters, and the World Fantasy Award winning anthologies Leviathan 3 (The Ministry of Whimsy 2002), and Strange Tales (Tartarus Press 2003). His works of fiction include Unpleasant Tales (Eibonvale Press, 2013), The Architect (PS Publishing, 2012), Lives of Notorious Cooks (Chômu Press, 2012), Miss Homicide Plays the Flute (Eibonvale Press, 2013), Cannibals of West Papua (Zagava, 2015), Jottings from a Far Away Place (Snuggly Books, 2015), and Against the Grain Again: The Further Adventures of Des Esseintes (Tartarus Press, 2021). As editor he has worked on various projects, including The Neo-Decadent Cookbook (Eibonvale Press, 2020), which was co-edited by Justin Isis.

Chapbook of 100 hand-numbered copies, lithographically printed on 95 g/m Italian gesso paper with a “hammered” texture. The cover is lithographically printed on 285 g/m recycled birch-colored Italian paper.

Slangen krioelen in de sarcofaag van het heden, in de krochten van de popcultuur, in de mummie van de natuur, in wondes en rot vlees, in artificiële woestijnen en op geoliede dad bods. Ze wentelen zich rond beursgrafieken, raken verstrengeld met wurgende algoritmes, orkestreren een trage ondergrondse revolutie. Een meisje snijdt zich aan een nepdiamanten piramide en werpt haar slangenvel van zich af.

Dominique De Groen is schrijver en beeldend kunstenaar. Ze publiceerde de dichtbundels Shop Girl (2017), Sticky Drama (2019) en offerlam (2020). Ze werd genomineerd voor de Poëziedebuutprijs Aan Zee 2018, de Herman de Coninckprijs 2020 en de Fintroliteratuurprijs 2021 en won de Frans Vogel Poëzieprijs 2019 en de Fintropublieksprijs 2021.

In The Book of Na, translation acts at the edge of perception. Tracing across projects in film, video, and performance, Na Mira reflects on the violent fragmentation of bodies while refusing the containment of geographic and corporeal borders. In 1977, a name is cut at an immigration office. This gap turns into an intergenerational score for becoming heat, hexagram, hologram. Using oracular and glitching technologies, Mira witnesses what escapes data: doppelgängers, dreams, endangered tigers, tesseracts, A. Turiyasangitananda Coltrane's stairs, Theresa Hak Kyung Cha in a theater, Korean shamanism, frozen ligaments, wildfires, borderlands, subatomic particles, and pink. Syncing to a clock with neither face nor hands, Mira’s hauntological permutations in time, death, and relation travel outside the symbolic order and draw energy from the void.

Na Mira’s autobody rites have been presented at sites including Seoul Museum of Art; Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles; Portland Institute of Contemporary Art; Participant Inc., New York; and Whitney Museum of American Art, New York. She earned an MFA from the University of California, Los Angeles. She grew up between the US and East Asia and teaches outside.