‘In an atomized economy subject only to the laws of cool, Erik Stinson’s poetry reduces our global urban experience to its essential grammar: the death project – where the only space left to die is on the retina-stunning beaches of a Windows screensaver surrounded by killer palms and the effacing vapors of a data-driven microtrend that serves only to verify the trend has passed.’
– Jon Leon
‘Frank O’Hara wrote poems on his lunch breaks in New York; half a century later Erik Stinson’s microaggressions disabuses us of the notion that we are ever not at work. Invoking the impersonal dialects of power and money, blending them uncannily yet fluently with the immediate and anonymous tonalities of internet culture, these minimal and highly mobile notations read like bleak missives transmitted from the bright, stark interiors of finance and advertising, and further articulate Stinson’s poetic as the by- or waste- product of his employment at a Manhattan ad agency. Authentically alert, mordant, political, utterly contemporary, these are poems produced within eyeshot of corporate America – where companies are people who talk like your friends – though they never neglect poetry’s transformative power, but rather test its charge, understanding that it waits in virtual worlds – ‘like in a video game / scenes with no edges / very little open sky’ – for our activation.’
– Sam Riviere
£12 + p&p. 174 x 106 mm. 114pp. Offset-litho printed, perfect bound. 300 copies.
Cover art: Zane Lewis, UNTITLED (SPEED), 2015. Reproduced courtesy of the artist.
Printed by Artquarters Press
Designed by Thom Swann