MARC Record from marc_columbia

LEADER: 01814cam a2200289Ii 4500
001 15290002
005 20210201100519.0
008 200625s2020 nyu 000 p eng d
024 $a40030225427
035 $a(OCoLC)on1159573766
040 $aYDX$beng$erda$cYDX$dYDXIT
020 $a0578576910$qpaperback
020 $a9780578576916$qpaperback
035 $a(OCoLC)1159573766
050 4 $aPS3619.I4723$bG66 2020
082 04 $a811/.6$223
100 1 $aSigler, Jeremy,$eauthor.
245 10 $aGoodbye letter /$cJeremy Sigler.
250 $aFirst edition.
264 1 $aLong Island City, NY :$bHunters Point Press,$c[2020]
300 $a168 pages :$billustrations ;$c22 cm
336 $atext$btxt$2rdacontent
337 $aunmediated$bn$2rdamedia
338 $avolume$bnc$2rdacarrier
520 $aConcrete and permutational poems celebrating a serene atrophy of language, from the author of My Vibe. In his latest collection, Goodbye Letter, New York-based poet Jeremy Sigler (born 1968) deconstructs his very will to write, as he articulates, verbally and graphically, the implied obsolescence of language itself. The book feels less like a proper literary work (a book of poetry) and more like a manual for poetic survival. One poem reads like some sort of linguistic code that manages to murmur "it is what it is"; another is more classically "concrete," reflecting on typewriter and pattern poems of past centuries; and another consists of a complete signature of unmarked blank pages (they await being torn out and curled up into a loose tube) as was the 19th-century prototype for the stethoscope, but used this time to listen in on the poet's "speaking" heart. Sigler's newest collection may be seen as a field guide to a poet's last gasp.
655 7 $aPoetry.$2lcgft
852 00 $bglx$hPS3619.I4723$iG66 2020