BAD ZOO
Joseph Spece

Little prepares for this avant-garde encounter, full of blackouts, projective forms, hexes, play, and sudden lyricism. A floating head warns: ‘next I will trail the length of this gore / like attar, my Lord // into your long Empyrean.’

Each copy of BAD ZOO is one-of-a-kind, including spray paint and ink details hand-applied by the author.

‘An alien script. There are masks, but the veins are attached [. . .] This text will try to break you so it can be alone; its strange feet n bent cudgel. It knows you're here to "know it" without asking any questions. This text finds problem with that.’

—Eric Westerlind

Read a review at Best American Poetry.