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Houston, texas
USA

Little Red Leaves Textile Series is a tiny press with a mission to publish innovative writing in delightful little packages. 

Meat by Sophie Seita

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All chapbooks are constructed using fabric covers and are individually sewn. Most cost only $8. 

Meat by Sophie Seita

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Meat by Sophie Seita

8.00

"In Sophie Seita’s Meat, the witty rigors of the dainty butcher and are butchered (the product of femininity both cleaver and carcass seemingly destined to be sectioned into retail-ready portions). In the racialized and gendered economy of our atmospherically fractured colonial violence, you get you a piece of meat so sweet. Or not. Seita folds us in through the discourses we’ve been eaten by." - Laura Elrick

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SOPHIE SEITA works with poetry on the page, in performance, and in video. She is the author of Fantasias in Counting (BlazeVOX Books, 2014), 12 Steps (Cambridge: Wide Range, 2012), and i mean i dislike that fate that i was made to where (Wonder, 2015, a translation from the German of Uljana Wolf). A full-length translation of Uljana Wolf’s selected poems, for which she received a PEN/Heim award, will be published by Belladonna in 2016. Her videos and other works have been exhibited and performed in the US, UK, Ireland and Germany. She lives in New York, previously curated the ‘unAmerican Activities Transatlantic Reading Series’, is a curator for the Segue Reading Series, and is currently finishing her PhD on avant-garde little magazines.

Great review by Sarah Hayden of Meat
 
(from British Hix Eros)

How do you translate the sound of a slaughtered animal screaming? What can you say in response to it? It’s in the gory domain of questions like those that Sophie Seita’s remarkable MEAT arrives. By addressing itself to whatever is forbidden the justice of response, MEAT is a long song of the double wound of victimhood—an originary violence followed by the structurally denied ability to speak of one’s being wronged. With Seita’s intelligence, incredible ear, and engaged life as a reader, she distributes her sources and resources musically. This book is melancholy and in precisely the right balance, but is always filled with extraordinary care: “I want to say things and feel them / this weak attempt at telling / not a verdict / just an expanse of caress.”
— Brandon Brown