got this book in the middle of slowly tao lin's taipei; never went back! there were some parts of that book i liked (whenever he wakes up and readjusts himself to where he is) but overall kinda a slog. i guess i'm briefly reviewing taipei here since i'm not gonna finish it
but! i love feed a lot. it's like tao lin/ben lerner autofiction mumblecore being young making ur way through a city but... feels more sincere, vulnerable, less crafted (i think i mean this neutrally, i like lerner's carefulness), part of that is tone (very casual, lots of internet speak (that to me didn't feel forced at all)) but part of that is also maybe poem format letting connections/recurrences feel more casual, natural, plus ambiguity of speaker vs. narrator/avatar
so raw and springy! spring in nyc! i want to feel there and young and passionate and liquid and uncertain and full of possibilities!! "one of those magical spring early sherbet skies where the city warps forward into its summer self before dipping back down into the lows of tomorrow" spring as rebirth/change is trite but it feels very apt and multifaceted here, where it's not just exciting and beautiful but also tense, layered w other themes
unexpected that in context of spring rather than being about new relationship, more about developing an old relationship into a friendship "death cycle interwoven with the spring. it took time to forget who we were together, so we could come back with intention and not surrender"
the high line, "the city to nature. the deathless cycle of seasons to this final second." seasonality vs. linearity, latter is like industrialization and like imperialism?? i wonder if his other book nature boy addresses this more head on, pico seems to buck stereotypes associating natives w nature/seasons where he writes about being native with this sense of entropy, fear of death/fatalism, being severed from the past: lack of food traditions
the space refs invoked loneliness but were also really interesting in the context of imperialism: recurring question of, are we alone in the universe? if another civilization were out there, would we have found each other by now, made ourselves known to each other, been at war? "to have engines of appetites in a city in a state in a nation in a world in a solar system in a galaxy in a universe where the only constant is change"
this book is definitely not neat -- soo many different structures/recurrences, the tracklist, the headlines -- but i feel like i wouldn't change a thing about it? i want to write messily now
just some beautiful unhinged diction/wordplay: "i buttered around the city" "gutter sluttery. glittering sea of one night stand and kick stand dicks" "the thighs of his face by which i mean his eyes" "mewing into the void"