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Vanessa Roveto's debut collection, bodys, is a work of stunning strangeness, force, and audacity, generated by - and degenerating toward - the unanswerable question at the heart of poetic speech: What does it mean to be "a person?" A dizzying hybrid of poetry and prose, post-human analytics and ribaldry, spiritual autobiography, and grim satire, Roveto lends exacting voice to "a most complicated vocabulary of feeling-your-feelings." Viscerally drawn to forbidden states and suspicious of its own desires, bodys is literature as high-risk, low-tech radiology, mapping the dim edges of identity and identification: "Brain scans indicated the moral center and the disgust center overlap on the mind field." Roveto's sentences hurtle forward with withering disjunctive energy, laying down traps of wordplay, tacking toward and veering away from syntactical targets, trying-on and sloughing-off pronoun positions with abandon.