Exiled from family and friends, the mercurial protagonist of Night Journey wanders into serial cities, although sometimes it seems as though the cities arrive at her. Restlessly shifting viewpoints generate a multi-dimensional perspective.
We were friends and have become estranged. But this was right and we do not want to conceal and obscure it from ourselves as if we had reason to feel ashamed. Our exposure to different seas and suns has changed us. Was it not Nietzsche who told us this?
In Negroni's poems, it is as though lyric subjectivity, the unitary speaking voice, were sucked into an oneiric realm, heaven's maternity ward, where being is re-birthed and re-inserted into an endless history of lives, into manifold journeys toward meaning.
From the automatism of our daily speech, can translation draw us across that most guarded border, the one we construct around ourselves?
Negroni's memories and dreams link and disconnect like mitotic chromosomes. Assertions cross themselves out and each word is clapped to its counterpart of silence. When a poem's speaker takes on the life of a soldier, it is only to suffer the malice of other soldiers.
Is it fair to say that one form of totalitarianism is the corralling of human feeling into uniform language?
Each of her prose poems is a way-station for those who are adrift, between lives but
“before biography.”