a slice from the cake made of air

by Lillian-Yvonne Bertram

a slice from the cake made of air processes the physical and mental trauma of abortion coupled with the desires for sexual and emotional love against a backdrop of contemporary culture—with all the sexualization that comes with race, gender, and landscape. From front to back the book is wound through with a single poem whose language is permuted, translated, and retranslated (from English to English) as it cycles around abortion, both asking “what artifact / do I resemble” and stating “small love / small / you failed it / in person.” The poems directly confront the sexual self (“This isn’t a real orgasm, a real patellar fatigue”) and take up the thesis abstract as a malleable form for interrogating the inevitable intersections and overlaps of brains and bodies. Sexy and volatile, a slice from the cake made of air winds over and through itself, with no conclusions or solutions for the mess of living in the world.

Genres: Poetry

88 pages, Paperback

First published April 21, 2016

Reviews

[Isaac Salazar · Rating 4 out of 5]

Big fan of the prose poems in this collection. They’re wacky in their premises.

[Alicia Hoffman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some of the individual poems/lines were exquisitely sublime. Some, though, seemed more like exercises in the obtuse. Sometimes the private language was too into concealment - lost its access points for me at times. However, overall this is a powerful testament to the power of language our (inner/outer) life.

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

I don't understand it, but I like it.