A book of Allen Ginsberg's literary conversations 1967-1977, including his encounters with Ezra Pound and an exposition of William Carlos Williams' poetic practice.

In this work, Janet Clare maintains that to understand dramatic and theatrical censorship in the Renaissance we need to map its terrain, not its serial changes and examine the language through which it was articulated. In tracing the development of dramatic censorship from its origins in the suppression of the medieval religious drama to the end of the Jacobean period, she shows how the system of censorship which operated under Elizabeth I and James I was dynamic, unstable and unpredictable. The author questions notions which regard censorship as either consistently repressive or as irregular and negotiable, arguing that it was governed by the contingencies of the historical moment.

Winner of the Nightboat Poetry Prize (2015) No Dictionary of a Living Tongue is formidable in its explorations of art, citizenship, and life as a body amid the social, political, and electronic networks that define us, hold us together, bind us. The poems here take many forms--prose, lyric, epigram, narrative, dialogue fragment, song, musical score, fairy tale, and dictionary entry. An elegant use of sound couples with a keen and roving intelligence and a fierce commitment to social justice to create a unique and powerful collection of poems.

These essays offer new vistas on the idea of the vernacular in contexts as diverse as Ramon Llull's prefiguration of universal grammar, the orthography of Early Middle English, the struggle for linguistic purity in Early Modern Dutch, and the construction of standard Serbian and Romanian in the waning decades of the Austro-Hungarian empire.

In Geographic Tongue, an important addition to the Pleiades Press Visual Poetry Series, Rodney Gomez weaves together themes of loss, identity, ethnicity, heritage, and the mechanics of contemporary life to create a collection as lyrically arresting as it is aesthetically stunning. These visual poems, crafted with both restraint and vitality, are visceral in their depiction of cruelty and grief at the United States–Mexico border. And yet, this charged landscape also gives rise to moments of tenderness, stillness, and wry humor. Gomez’s visual design is at once vivid and haunting, drawing together collage, diagrams, and abstract imagery into a bright, geometrically precise collection. His text casts such a powerful spell that in its absence, silence is heard as clearly as any phrase. Gomez writes, “You don't have to speak to speak truth,” and this lucid assertion is borne out in the collection as a whole. In its art, and in its silence, the poems of Geographic Tongue are undeniably and indelibly authentic.