supermoon

Composed of delicate, roving parataxis located between the visible and the invisible, a rotting globe and an everyday porch, shadow countries and future possible worlds, Gillian Parrish’s fierce, tender lyrics of supermoon offer balm and truth. As floods skim riverbed, as fires come, as we run out of water, and ward off “a slow death by Senate,” Parrish’s stunning new book braves joy, heartbreak and grace, her every line “singing the red dark secret land.”
–Gillian Conoley