Showing posts from March, 2014

Paul Curran - slowly it unveils and embodies what happens when a sensitive mind, scarred by the sins of the fathers and the “acid rain” of today’s neoliberal globalism, revolts by letting his genitals control what’s left of him after the cutting

Paul Curran, Left Hand, Civil Coping Mechanism, 2014.


Left Hand is every reason why Paul Curran is one of the smartest, most daring, meticulous, violent, delicate, awe-inspiring new fiction chiselers in the known world, if you ask me. His work has been a huge favorite of lucky insiders like me for years, and now the secret is finally and definitely out.” —Dennis Cooper

"With Left Hand, Paul Curran has written something so different that reading it will make your eyes burn.”
—Matthew Stokoe
"Stop the psychotic qualitative self-deception of childhood as Henry Miller, Paul Curran’s Left Hand ordered a mandragora sex. It is a cyber ploy plausible to deal with Georges Bataille’s supreme life anyway, this literary alcohol than ecstasy drugs cruel image of Antonin Artaud’s formalin fixed heart that heresy novel is formed on the eroticism cause of supremacy he was attached to the soul of Jean Genet’s sexual literature manual of t…

Elizabeth Mikesch - a subversive text of lingual dissonance in which vocality precedes sense-making operations. Its phonics disrupt narrative through syntactical atonalities

Elizabeth Mikesch, NICETIES: Aural Ardor, Pardon Me. Calamari Press, 2014.
ColumbiaSporkHeavy FeatherKGB Bar LitSleepingfishThe Center for FictionSimilar Peaks
“If you’re weary of mild, obedient prose, try plunging into the pages of Elizabeth Mikesch’s exuberant debut. This book is witchcraft: stories refreshingly loosely translated from the real by a mind that moves on its own.”  —Noy Holland
“It will hardly do the trick to say that NICETIES is a breath of fresh air. In Elizabeth Mikesch’s compressedly melodious prose, a reader inhales purifying drafts of something entirely unexpected in these literary dog days—not some novelty intoxicant concocted as a careerist stunt but some rarer ether releasing itself at long last into the world to dazzle, yes, but also to clarify so much of what we had never dreamed clarifiable about the ecstasy of our human mess.”  - Gary Lutz

“What the fiction that is Elizabeth Mikesch’s knows is more than what most other fiction knows. Mikesch makes in ways t…

Melissa Broder - Every airplane is sleep.I point my finger at a jetliner to rest my eye. Boys smell holes in a neon blue banner I keep in my wallet. The banner says RELAX GOD IS IN CHARGE. Stephen Dedalus you are never on my mind. You come to my island and I am the island. You are well-traveled but that is arid.

Melissa Broder, Scarecrone, Publishing Genius Press, 2014.


Sample Poems
“Astral Locket” at New Hive

Two poems at Illuminati Girl Gang
“I Give a Convincing Sermon” at
“Judgment” at Gigantic Melissa Broder’s
In her third collection, Broder (Meat Heart) manages to conjure a psychic realm best described as one part twisted funhouse and two parts Catholic school, heavy on libido and with a dash of magick. This gritty, cherry soda–black book, where Broder “distorted all the mirrors/ in mucus, oil and blood,” is bizarrely sexy in its monstrousness. “There is no need to be pink when another woman is already pink,” she states, and her poems reject feminine frills, choosing instead to dig into the body’s dark spaces for something beyond the corporeal: “I cried/ because my body/ was not waterlogged enough/ to fall right off the bone.” She reduces the female form to its negative space; holes or mouths hungering to be filled or stuffed: …