STRONG NEW COLLECTION BY RISK-POET EILEEN TABIOS IS PERFECTLY TITLED

LORNA DEE CERVANTES WRITES IN:

Eileen Tabios in-spires: loops the spiral, provides the hook in the crocheted loving self as thing. In her: a sea garden, the sun-kissed grape, the wait for the sour to pass, for the pucker of autumn to begin. Good rocks. Solid California burl, manzanita and heat. Hot things. Plates full of risa, arroz, basil; her profusion—syllables unfolding fast. The holy fast. The too fast girl protruding in to her future. Fast, as in holding on fast to a good line, a good hook — up the loving shaft again. Even the same old, same old flower tulip-faced in the morning. Mourning becomes her. Electra. Enheduanna spilling into spray (again!) from the oyster, That which we don't tell others. That. A morphology of punctuation, divine resurrection.

Dare I call it by a name?

The iron gate closes; bottle is popped; the cork of her days, unstoppable. She perpetuates. Stay!