Reagent, something of a sequel to the still as-yet-unpublished, Gargoyle, is the latter’s jagged successor, rougher around the edges. It’s another sequence in couplets, a sinewy form I’ve been messing with.
Hiding Press, co-run by the poet and bookseller, Mark Johnson, put this out and you can find more about the book and purchase it here.
There’s an odd, short puff that accompanies the book:
Reagent is an egregious, concatenated spit-take into the deep interior sky, stuffed into the future past, treading syrup in unholy, dizzying Bildungsroman couplets that drag, drift, shuffle, dip, hang, return, stop and generally prod the malice at the center of malaise. An accessory to fearful reaction, intensively superficial and disgusted by all the stories, Reagent wants to know what’s in it—all of it—for you, dear reader, among the devices that circulate through the grand et cetera.
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