You think you know what a book of poetry is? Huh? Do ya, punk?
If you do, I bet your idea of it resembles in no way this strange little tome The Network. I'm having trouble finding things to call it; I'm having trouble stopping:
Jena Osman's The Network is
* a conceptual public art piece in modest paperback form.
* a tourist handbook explicating the history, culture, economics, and language of the northeastern United States, except this guide is common only in a strange alternate dimension where poetry is a mainstream form of information dissemination, but not so strange a dimension that such a guide would not have photos, maps, and diagrams.
* a machine processing the intersections of cash, sugar, skin color, etymology, city planning, comic books, and congressional hearings, obeying its alien-programmed emphases.
* an arty cover-version of the found diary kept by a Manhattan mental patient suffering from reference mania who saw connections everywhere across space and time, but sticking only to the ones that turned out to be factually accurate.
* the findings of a computer virus that became sentient and curious about how financial-capital facts interact and why things are how they are, expressed in a compact form to avoid detection.
* a history textbook from the future, after the artificial divisions between genres, formats, and academic fields have been dissolved.
Unfortunately these all have an alienated or inhuman aspect, and are thus utterly misleading about this actually pretty personal work. Well, perhaps not utterly. Poetry books are rarely praised for their etymological root trees or Harper's-Index-style lists of events in the history of U.S. colonial finance.
Well one is. Now. Check it out:
Opening a book to find an epigraph from Borges is usually a good sign. Then a currently overused word (the title) pops up when you learn that it's a series of interconnected "networks." [brackets mine, allll mine]
Network One: The Knot [of relations, etymological and otherwise]
Network Two: The Joker [of, yes, Batman fame, and more]
Network Three: The Franklin Party [an expedition that was no party]
Network Four: The Financial District [Wall Street was once a wall]
Network Five: Mercury Rising (a visualization) [kaboom]
While interconnected, each of these poems (?) explores interconnections themselves, between the geneology of terms (Accuracy, Scour, Procure, and Securities all being related) and seemingly unrelated cultural artifact (Victor Hugo and... BATMAN? Yes! Really!). The streetsigns of New York City are besmirched by the names of horrible people and chilling events, now mere neutral print recited to cabbies, carrying buried worlds of instructional information like dormant DNA.
This is a cool book, punk!