order Windows 85
Fall 2024, from Roof Books
Windows 85 by Chris Campanioni
“it became necessary to stretch to let / language in”—such is the deliciously mind-and-every-limb-stretching encounter that Windows 85 is. A fever dream that never forgets embodiment, an intellectual rollercoaster ride sans pretension, an erotic thriller where no one dies except the self (many times, many petites morts), this is a book to read while in the sauna, then at your favorite haunted library. This is a poet who understands that contemporary digital worlds have not replaced the sensory and bodily realms—instead, like any technology, they live alongside physical, haptic, sweat-drenched perceptions and comminglings. The digital doesn’t merely “augment reality”—it rewrites the real, again and again. So too must a poet of this endlessly fantasy-and-phantasm-filled era rewrite the real—while, ideally, “clad … / in jock strap”—in order to find a new sort of freedom, or to flirt anew: “I’ll show you my data / set if you / show me yrs.”
— Chen Chen
I love how porn-esque and abstract and multi-persona’d this book is, how it flows like thought itself, a fleshly lustful floating thinking, not wishing to land, just to stretch out, a long “fingering,” as the poet puts it. A procedure of stretching seems to be his signature—syntax, lineation, enjambment, flickering-between-personae, between genders, between subject/object, seen/seer, screen/IRL … Campanioni appears to take his cue from O’Hara’s “You Are Gorgeous and I Am Coming”—just motion itself, the throb and onwardness, an erotics/poetics of the in medias res. Other spirits summoned by Campanioni’s concoction are Ammons and Jelinek and Mayröcker and Robert Glück and Ashbery and Stein—classic masters of this stretching mode, wherein sex’s abstractness lineates itself …
— Wayne Koestenbaum
The way “genres” converge in Chris Campanioni’s Windows 85 is so good–poetry, prose, lyric, essay, the personal, the theoretical. In a world where “everything is haptic,” the seeming boundaries between various authorized selves are always already touching in alignments that intimately implicate reader and empire. Though playfully aware of their own mediation, the poems conjure time in ways that feel embodied, lyrically interrogating nostalgia as privilege and commodity. Campanioni explores the “limitations of the I” with incisive humor, ferrying readers through its displacements, rewarding us with a view of the media frameworks that try to erase themselves and us in the process.
— Matt Broaddus
Windows 85 is a winningly brazen poetry collection of a new erotics, a book in which the second person often comes first. “You” is a slippery subject “woken by the breeze / of your lens”: mirror-selves fleetingly glimpsed, or strangers misunderstood, yet longed-for. Campanioni’s headlong, minimally punctuated writing rings a round of thorny rosies, with pocketfuls, to spare, of kinky poesies amidst the before- and afterglow of queer collisions and near-misses: “so I relaxed into you / so you fucked around & found out // ensconced in my absence […].” To be sure, Windows 85 rewards the reader with refreshing games of lyrical leapfrog. Take your place in these lines, and get ready to spring high.
— Chris Hosea