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"Carving space for conversations that can't take place in real time, Forde's poems are plucked from the mouths of loved ones, lending poetry, itself, to dialogic purpose. The voices of doctors, mothers, fathers, grandparents, boyfriends--all intrude in the poems, all enter in italics, dressed up like unforgettable adages singed on the brain. The use of italics sets them apart but also sacralizes them, sets them apart and outside the world of arguments, like litanies repeated on a rosary of things one can't forget."
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