on 7 July 2015
This is the sort of poetry book I like to come across from time to time. A bit too clever for its own good, very much in your face, and doing the sort of things that can only get done once by the clever-clogs who thought of them first. In keeping with the concept of concrete poetry this book is like some huge installation, one where you can walk into, and under, fabricated structures and are invited at intervals to sit in partitioned rooms to watch pieces of ostensibly meaningless but highly compelling looped film. Fascinating stuff.