In LAST, E.J. McAdams dares human resilience to witness extinction and what happens inside the middle voice, where "predicates of existing and happening" elevate stillness beyond survival."--Edwin Torres"What to do with the word 'nature' in poetry when we are destroying nature so quickly? How do we speak, much less sing, of so much extinction and human-caused loss? E.J. McAdams' response is to sing everything, all of it or as much as possible, sounded out, fearless, precise, surprising, shocking, in new poetic forms that better fit the drastic and frightening changes taking place on both macrolevel and microlevel: the last of a species pecking through an eggshell, the peregrine in the freezer with a beak broken from a collision, what people say after wildfire burns their entire Paradise. I recommend reading E.J. McAdam's LAST out loud, singing/shouting each line in city parks, the subway, the office. Let it echo off the walls 'amidst skyscrapers' in an elegy for our ecology/our planet/our lives that is devastating, but joyous still in its love for what was and what might still be possible: 'Nature be/ Nature be was/ Nature be is/ Nature be will be.'"--Marcella Durand, author of To husband Is to tender