With the poems in this new book, Sasha Reiter takes to another level what he had already achieved in his first collection. Fundamentally, Reiter delves into a kind of intelligence and sensibility -which does not shun humor- in the manner of a Paul Gauguin or a Cesar Vallejo; that is, rather post-anthropocentric. Or, in other words, where the myth is not pausterized, but is alive, gathering people together and fostering a live community. This alone sets Reiter apart from a legion of young and not so young poets, attentive in a unique way to themselves or to an oversized private space. Therefore, today and in the projection of this poetry toward the future, we do not find utopias or dystopias in a humanistic way; but, instead, a plunge -with eyelids wide open- toward another instance or condition of language: a knife which cuts flesh, seasons it slowly and then hands it out. Sasha Reiter’s poems not only make up the Bronx but also -from a cultural perspective and not merely a geographic one- Peru and, likewise, the academy placed together on the stage. They are, first of all, for eating, for countering a vast creative anemia prevailing throughout the entire world. PEDRO GRANADOS