Dear Enheduanna

Erin Honeycutt

Part prayer, part performance, part poetic treatise, Dear Enheduanna writes out to the high priestess and first known author then swallows whole the epistolary form. Pulp decay as publishing tactic. These are conjuring poems; poems coming after collaboration—entanglement as conceit, as kink, as communion pleasure tactic. Smuggle in a sexy mirror, smuggle in a double-headed dildo, smuggle in a sentence then feel it read back: the author is reader is author is reader.

'Each book needs a plum. Like a lover, shapes. In Dear Enheduanna, the reader gets mountains, plum. Mmm. Without a body. Fairytales of circumnavigating shapes. A requiem for libraries. The pronoun 'she' is a newborn metaphor de-colonizing the spirits. The pronoun 'I' will sooner or later become a metaphor of light. Please, dear searcher, read this book—& I recommend reading Dear Enheduanna sur le pont of metaphors btwn sorrow's ten thousand sources.' – Kristín Ómarsdóttir