translated by Jean-Jacques Poucel

“The poems go two by two across facing pages, where they press against each other, connect, and go forth in a tremulous manifesto. The result is a syntactical vertigo poised above nothingness. The halves meet only in an instant, suggesting that the crux of poetry is the art of not quite touching.

We loved to surrender hardly located know
that we were the ruin
just juxtaposed bouquets
that each of us had a social hook
minimum tender

from a great review on Goodreads

short bi-lingual excerpt on Poetry International

Link to the book at AbeBooks