“Éireann Lorsung’s Her book has something of the gurlesque to it: ‘The most gentle apocalypse in the world.’ But this will lead the reader, with remarkable sureness, not toward the viscera of the gender spectacle revealed via exaggeration, but rather into the miniature, the closely observed, the travesties and utopias of the quietest moments. It is from these moments that the whole is constructed, the molecules that compose both her book and her life in a ‘Collision of the cellular level and the structures.’ It is an aching and eloquent whole indeed.” —Joshua Clover

oh. oh. oh. I feel so closely read.

About my second collection, Ada Limón (author of three books of poems) writes, “Part ecstatic recollection of the many ways places and objects leave their indelible marks upon our bodies and brains, and part timeless ode to the strange female beast that pounds inside of us all, Her book resurrects the enchanting power of personal and historically feminine mythology. Exacting, and at the same time utterly magical, Lorsung’s work opens a door to an unusually radiant universe where everything within is set ablaze by pure wonderment.”

Exactitude = doorway to the magical.