Poetry. Bracho's poems make sense first as music, and music propels them...Then it is as though the very syntax has begun to run, has been heated to a magma by the sensual fingers holding the pen, by the pulsing resistance, the friction of accumulating words, of echoes bandied back and forth between lines like flames between mirrors (from the afterword by Forrest Gander). Translated from the Spanish by Forest Gander. Saddlestapled.