Pooja Mittal Biswas

Eh? You want bodies, blood, sex, gore, damning gods, raw uppercuts? Why, yes. Pooja Mittal Biswas welcomes you into the ring of identity and the hunt for an honest and rapier self. Glove up. Confessional poetry can deteriorate into fetishism, in Biswas's hands the first-person narrative soars—detailed, raw, palpable. Her poems have a sense of immediacy. The collection ends with...