I WILL GET UP OFF OF

A CBC BOOKS POETRY COLLECTION TO WATCH FOR

this is a book about trying to leave a chair. how does anyone ever leave a chair? there are so many muscles involved – so many tarot cards, coats, meds, mcnuggets, and memes. poems are attempts and failures at movement as the speaker navigates her anxiety and depression in whatever way she can, looking for hope from social workers on zoom, wellness influencers, and psychics alike. eventually, the poems explode in frustration, splintering into various art forms as attempts at expression become more and more desperate. what is there to lean on when avenues promising help don’t help? I WILL GET UP OFF OF explores the role art plays in survival and the hope that underlies every creative impulse.

"The voice of these poems moves like a magical fish trapped in a small square bowl, dazzlingly alive inside an almost annihilating constriction. These poems play a serious game in a tight space, caught in the looping limbo between intention — “I will…”, “I will…”, “I will…”— and action. Simina Banu’s skill and humour animate every line and gesture within this inventive drama that begins “(I will get up off of) this monobloc but I’ve been sentenced….” Sentenced to form and to language, Banu gives us a mind thinking its way toward freedom."

– Damian Rogers, author of Dear Leader

"I Will Get Up Off Of, the second poetry collection of Simina Banu is a one-location film equivalent of a book, as it brilliantly unravels on the treadmill of life, yet moves freely through moments of surrender and ecstasy. "

– Samuel Wise, Montreal Guardian

"I Will Get Up Off Of is an immersive poetic exploration like no other; this book folds into itself like a nesting doll of metaphor, commentary and overall beef with late-stage capitalism. The ways in which Banu tackles the subject of depression made me feel seen and want to scream, and the tumbling prose-like structure amplifies this and other symptoms of capitalist society with eerie veracity. Every ‘poem’ in I Will Get Up Off Of launches from the starting point of the title, interspersed with interactive moments like QR codes, wikipedia scavenger hunts, and instagram feeds. I have never quite inhaled a poetry collection as fast as I did this one."

– Wroxanna Work, Literati Bookstore

"an incantatory poetry collection and delightfully morose rumination on mental illness"

– Caroline Noël, Literary Review of canada

"The collection excels in it’s dizzying descent into diagramming past events; mind-mapping exercises to do with hammers in an attempt to self-medicate; and attempts at blind contours of monoblocs only for the speaker to come to the realization that they can’t fucking draw it."

– Jonathan Miller, EarShrub

"There is something compelling in how Banu rhythmically returns each lyric opening to 'this monobloc,' offering book title as the presumed opening phrase of each poem, perpetually returning to the beginning, to begin again, offering a tethered and unsettlingly stressed variation on Robert Kroetsch’s structure of composing the long poem; by continually returning to the beginning, one can keep going indefinitely, after all."

– rob mclennan

"Utilizing block poems whose squared form mirrors rambling notes on a cellphone screen, Simina Banu’s smart craft will tense your muscle joints, twist your gut into knots and flush your body hot."

– CECILIA MONTEMAYOR, the woodlot


photo credit: Gerardo Salazar

Simina Banu's interests are at the intersection of capitalism, technology and mental health. In 2020, she published her debut full-length collection, POP (Coach House Books), which won the 2021 ReLit Award for poetry. She has published several chapbooks: where art (words(on)pages), Tomorrow, adagio (above/ground), harmony in Beach Foam (Anstruther Press), and ERE—a collaboration with Amilcar Nogueira (Collusion Books). In 2024, she released her second full-length poetry collection, I WILL GET UP OFF OF (Coach House Books).


POP

WINNER OF THE RELIT AWARD FOR POETRY

SHORTLISTED FOR THE A.M. KLEIN POETRY PRIZE

"The voice in these poems responds to the world performatively, messily, relatably. A palette of potato-chip self-care selfies rings throughout the book ... Shards of late capitalist culture grow less familiar and more disquieting ... Banu’s voice, though, offers fullness and clarity."

– Broken Pencil

"Moving through a variety of poem-structures, including more traditional lyric structures, prose poems, drawings and visual poems, Banu becomes the explorer, fearlessly pushing out into the unknown. "

– rob mclennan

"Banu’s simple language conveys the complexity of an ending with unmistakable sadness. She expresses the realities of moving on — such as crying in public while doing mundane tasks — that are not often elevated to the level of poetry ... Banu’s poetry celebrates those who speak of love and loss in the language of emojis and memes, and have had our hearts broken by a text a message."

– Hyperallergic

"POP is a startling achievement for a debut poet. It is scary, satirical, confessional and entertaining."

– Event

"The word “pop” is wonderfully agile. So is the poetry in POP, a debut collection that surprises, delights, and shocks. Simina Banu excels at wordplay with an exceptional range of forms, including visual and concrete poems. Nothing is predictable, and you never know what you’ll find or feel when you turn the page. One thing is certain: the poems are clever, playful, and tragic."

– Montreal Review of Books

"Banu’s alternately funny and furious, but also frequently introspective and sad, and at her best when she’s all of these in combination"

– Winnipeg Free Press

"The energy of the poems is that of more than simple assemblage. POP’s forms and modes open to multiple readings through contextual shifts that take place with paratactical gestures and a sense of humor. Concrete poems advance these possibilities including those of tenderness. The effect is rich in emotional correlation and meaning."

– QWF

"From the junk food aisle of the depanneur, Simina Banu's POP brings the emotional twist and salt of a big bag of pretzels. Melancholy colour-blocks with Cheetos, heartbreak with honey-mustard. Tiny lyrics erupt from whole-grain breakfast cereals, a healthy breakfast. Pop rocks."

– Derek Beaulieu, author of Surface Tension

"A Simina Banu poem is a shapeshifter. There is no field of thought it shies away from, serving philosophy in the kitchen, morphing from a pop-culture pop-up to a record cover recalling poetry's sonic debt, falling into a great pile of concrete wordsticks to smash or rebuild/grow something from. Put this record in your mind and listen to it crackle and sign."

– Ana Božičević, author of Rise In The Fall