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April 24, 2018 / barton smock

Adrenalin – poetry – Ghayath Almadhoun


poetry by Ghayath Almadhoun, translated by Catherine Cobham
Action Books, 2017

my heart becomes a wooden scarecrow to chase away Hitchcock’s birds

– {from} The Capital

In a voice of recent distance, Ghayath Almadhoun, in the work Adrenalin, as translated by Catherine Cobham, is able to distill a ceaseless thing with a billowing anxiety of verse underscored by dry nostalgias and headless histories that are revealed, in the final section Black Milk, as informers to the funereal travelogue of the unsalted body. This is not a wake, this is war, this is the honoring of the soft bullet in the ongoing inquiry of the stray man. This is not the face, done up, that one has to remember to recognize but is instead the zombie childhood our memory forgets repeating. The dead (here) are scene stealers apologizing to us for disappearing and the living (there)…

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