Courtesy of the indefatigable Doug Messerli: terrific, fresh and interesting, form-bending prose-poetry by Ann Bogle here: — and here:

She’s not doing anything particularly new (nothing’s all that new anymore — hasn’t been in a long, long while), but she’s doing it very well indeed: being interesting to the reader (as a result of being interesting to herself, one would suggest), as she hops from one little isle of meaning (shreds of recollections, leaps of logic, narrative’s constant self-adjustments) to the next. Texts create themselves, as it were, spin themselves out of the yarn of next-to-last sentences, in the process of going along under their own momentum. This is akin to what the great critic and culturologist Mikhail Iampolsky (the smartest guy Yours Truly has the privilege of knowing and, um, being friends with) referred to as the poetry of caresse, in his introduction to the selected poems by Arkadii Dragomoshchenko… if YT, whose breadth of scholastic cognition is decidedly non-Iampolskean (to put it mildly), may engage in a quick melding-together of two wholly disparate frames of reference.

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