waling waling palpitations

<p><strong style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1); background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1)><em>Waling waling palpitations</em></strong><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1); background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1)> is a genre-defying debut that pulses with queer lineage decolonial reclamation and lush embodied ritual. Part drag spell part orchid archive this lying hybrid artifact blends poetry photo-memory ancestral invocation erasure and two decades of queer love letters into a prismatic offering. nawa angel a.h.-also known as Moonyeka-moves through performance mythology and intimate ephemera to reclaim matrilineal histories and diasporic queer desire with fearless feral beauty. </span><em style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1); background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1)>Waling waling palpitations</em><span style=color: rgba(0 0 0 1); background-color: rgba(255 255 255 1)> refuses containment-blooming mourning and shimmering across form language and land. It is archive. Event score. Heart opening its many mouths.</span></p><p></p><p>If there has not been such a thing as quantum poetics before <em>Waling waling palpitations </em>cracks open the space for it . . . These poems are multidimensional in the purest sense-multi-lingual multimodal multi-gender multi-genre.</p><p><strong>-Lisbeth White author of<em> American Sycamore </em></strong></p><p></p><p>I left this work shaking with pleasure ... If <em>Waling waling palpitations </em>is an altered state let me never return to the norm.</p><p>-Jen Soriano author of <em>Nervous</em> & co-editor of <em>Closer to Liberation</em></p><p></p><p>A kaleidoscopic multisensory and mesmerizing work...'i am what my mother hoped: something she could never know' the text sings of impossible possibility. I have perhaps never experienced a book that I wanted to absorb into my own being so much. A work of unmeasured beauty and genius. You will be fucking changed by this book. Seriously. </p><p>-Janice Lee author of <em>Separation Anxiety</em></p><p></p><p>nawa angel a.h. is a writer who defies cultivators. Like the orchid <em>Waling waling palpitations</em> is intertextual in its form and is a queer plant species that has learned to survive a cultivator's hands. The speaker tells the story of a closeted mother an orchid who survived 'because she stifled herself from blooming' and the queer descendants she produced who unfurl in your hands. Call it epic poem call it memoir call it a colonial history just know that as you read nawa angel a.h. is reading you too.</p><p>-Corinne Manning author of <em>We Had No Rules</em> </p><p></p><p> Somewhere between performance body language and image there is an epic undulation that refuses to still. This book vibrated in my palms recalling my body beyond reading. I always hope that books happen to me. This book blew open genre gender and biography blooming like the waling-waling orchid into biomythology. An erotic song cycle. A full-throated juice-laden hip thrust back at colonization. A primal skin scream. You cannot contain what you hold in your hands.</p><p>-Lidia Yuknavitch author of <em>Reading the Waves</em> & <em>Chronology of Water</em></p><p></p><p>To make this work a specimen is to find it rejecting the pin slithering from the page of its definition. Instead engage as willing tribute as response to the call as witness and chorus and find all your senses flung wide.</p><p>- Amber Flame Author of <em>apocrifa</em> & <em>Ordinary</em> <em>Cruelty</em></p>