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"Her Many Feathered Bones" art by Jessica Serran poems by Eleanor Johnson
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When the statuary in Jessica Serran and Eleanor Johnson’s collaborative work speaks (and it does), its disarticulated voices are "sick with reference." "Oh, the agony of address," says Johnson, "does anyone else feel this weary / thisness?" The reader feels in these articulations an economy of desiderata: knees, braids, claws, teeth, sheep, snakes, and at least one iguanodon. But the exchange between image and word values deliberation over excess, inspiring a range of attention that manages winningly to associate a striped sock with a "centaur’s knee ... moving through space" in the slowest of forms, the frieze. Is this a good thing? I think so, sympathizing as I do with the exhausted tourist caught "between graphic space and lyrical time" everywhere in life. Compositionally far from the rubble of past or future, Serran and Johnson’s combo of acute arrangement and tonic selection exhort the reader to be a reader (with a sense of humor) in the especially peculiar and difficult present.
-Jean Day
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