These are brutal, bruised poems, like desert storms, lit with lightning strokes of beauty.
These are austere, still poems about the things embodied in words.
The Lost Arabs is a collection of cosmological, mystical poetry, a search for belonging and god in hell on earth.
Ellen van Neerven conjures magic from trauma in this fluid collection full of warmth and light.
The tradition is violation: of the land, of women, and especially black men’s bodies.
Whittaker’s poetic language is urgent but timeless, vernacular but formally rigorous, totally unique.