Published by Lithic Press

“How does one differentiate the external world from the internal one?  And how, then, should we begin to navigate the space between? In the strangely beautiful world of Ablaza everything doubles. Pine needles become syringes. Ants crawling across a log become a children’s snack. The raindrop that opens a storm could, just as easily, be confused for the one that closes it. With its embrace of flux, this collection serves as a reminder that growth doesn’t happen unilaterally. Tedesco’s poems sink, like the root network of the deepest tree, into the soil while their branches continue to stretch towards the open sky. Here, we must accept that the pain of not-forgetting is intrinsically connected to the joy of remembering.  And because of this, Ablaza feels like both an elegy and an ode to the distance between things. The one separating the living from the dead, the past from the present, the lost from the lost. Us, from us.”

-Jamison Crabtree, author of Relament, winner of The Word Works‘ Washington Prize


“A shamanic fever dream of ouroborean reconstitution. Level up.”
     -Garett Strickland, Unwin-Dunraven Literary Ecclesia
“Adam Tedesco’s Ablaza poems walk that razor thin line between the accessibility of imagery and the complete restructuring of how words can interact with each other. Poem after poem feels like a heated mescaline fever-state, but one where you’re just aware enough to keep going, keep walking, taking in each flash and fury of this kaleidoscope existence.”
“Smell and taste are one of the same. Looming colors reside in the air offering their own take on the sense. Wildness lingers. A surge of wildness indicates change because whenever change is not prepared for that is when it comes. Nobody can predict it for it is an uncertain thing throwing cogs into the machine. Machines consume all hours years from lives. Few escape the machines for they always require more resources to make them fully whole. The knowledge that one day the racing days will extract their toll on people can be almost too much to bear.”
      – Beach Sloth


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