Excerpt

So swipe while the forgetting’s fresh, swaddle the memory in iron, some locusts, soil? plaster? fat? muscle? marble? pulp? linoleum? a shipping envelope? a nitrogen tank? Underneath the carpet is tack and underneath the tack nails and underneath the nails pine or particle and underneath that hair bone but no more stone look supersweet

Description

The prose poems in Julia Bloch’s Like Fur explore the affective structures of fertility. Imitating the starts and stops of memory and wanting, these poems stage an essayistic argument about the complicated desire for queer futurity. Moving through spaces of dailiness and desire (waiting rooms, yoga studios, commuter rails) and shot through with resonant objects of temporality and containment (building materials, lunar charts), Like Fur explores the contracts and contractions of memory and wanting.