<DIV><p>“Wright has found a way to wed fragments of an iconic America to a luminously strange idiom, eerie as a tin whistle, which she uses to evoke the haunted quality of our carnal existence.”—<I>The New Yorker</I></p><p>Inspired by numerous visits inside Louisiana state prisons—where MacArthur Fellow C.D. Wright served as a “factotum” for a portrait photographer—<I>One Big Self</I> bears witness to incarcerated men and women and speaks to the psychic toll of protracted time passed in constricted space. It is a riveting mosaic of distinct voices, epistolary pieces, elements from a moralistic board game, road signage, prison data, inmate correspondence, and “counts” of things—from baby's teeth to chigger bites:</p><p> <I>Count your folding money</I><br> <I>Count the times you said you wouldn't go back</I><br> <I>Count your debts</I><br> <I>Count the roaches when the light comes on</I><br> <I>Count your kids after the housefire</I></p><p> <I>One Big Self</I>—originally published as a large-format limited edition that featured photographs and text—was selected by <I>The New York Times</I> and <I>The Village Voice</I> as a notable book of the year. This edition features the poem exclusively.</p><p> <B>C.D. Wright</B> is the author of ten books of poetry, including several collaborations with photographer Deborah Luster. She is a professor at Brown University.</p></DIV>