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"I admit I find prophecy in these pages." — Venepoetics
"I am super conservative when it comes to space station hygeine"
"the voices I hear in my washing machine as I paint them"
"I think of your Belgrade as a different social notation"
"to get laid like ink"
"Hooray! What is time to us but a picture of space"
"halibut objurgate pjs"
"We guzzle water straight from the
"I can't study philosophy--It's disgusting--
I found a hair in my textbook!"
- 04.05.10 | In the Brooklyn Rail, two poems by Filip Marinovich from his forthcoming book, A Travelling Part
- 01.01.10 | The Boston Review raves about Zero Readership by Filip Marinovich
- 12.22.09 | The online journal Galatea Resurrects reviews Classification of a Spit Stain and Zero Readership
- 10.12.09 | In Third Factory, Kevin Killian reviews Filip Marinovich's Zero Readership
- 02.05.09 | Guillermo Juan Parra reviews Filip Marinovich’s Zero Readership on Venepoetics
- 09.17.08 | Filip Marinovich’s Zero Readership is reviewed by Tim Peterson in Mappe Munde
- 09.15.08 | Publishers Weekly reviews Marinovich’s Zero Readership
News and Reviews
Please read this NOW. It's brilliant.—Tim Peterson
In his wily, edgy and hyperactive debut collection, Marinovich follows a prodigal grandson—ostensibly the poet—who returns to Belgrade, or 'Marinovichland,' over the course of five years. During each visit, the poet transcribes conversations and shapes them into 'typewriter portraits.' Opening with the darkly beautiful 'Belgrade Eyes,' Marinovich elegizes a relative who has committed suicide. Second-guessing his right to celebrate or mourn his own ethnic and familial history—'[w]ho are you to sing the dead you never knew?'—each poem comes closer to embracing the self-appointed role of bard journalist by addressing war and its aftermath in a removed albeit intimate manner: 'befriend radiation—/ deal with traces of/ depleted uranium bombing/by NATO in ’99.' Ranging from the highly political to the sweetly playful and tenderly sentimental, Marinovich reveals that national identity can be fluid when 'from one side or another/ no one can be secure in the global cell.'—Publishers Weekly
The book's frenzied sequences thrash forward with the linguistic aplomb of Joyce, O'Hara.—The Boston Review