This is Dennis Lee's critically acclaimed book of poetry Un. I am clearly too dumb to understand what the hell is going on it. Even reading the blurbs that support it leave me at a loss. This is how the book opens:
In wreck, in dearth, in necksong,
godnexus gone to the fat of the land,
into the wordy desyllabification of evil - small
crawlspace for plegics, 4, 3, 2, 1, un...
Well now that I type it out it makes complete sense.
Sorry Dennis, I don't have the skill set for this.

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