«Alchemy. The zenithal light of a screen that imprints the sex of Belladona and Jenna Haze, metabolised by Luna Miguel as diction of extraordinary sensuality.»

»Hers are the domains of charisma, solemnity and the disobedience of a powerful Lilith, determined to be expelled from the — surely — Dantesque paradise (Notturnos: Madrid and its ruined periphery). Breaths, flesh, flavours... Whispers: rattlesnake, coiled in the same desert as Valente and Bolaño, protecting the — perpetual — final breaths of the lyric (like the biblical fruit, like a — magical — Aztec terracotta idol). Poet in a world of narrators, rara avis for the referential coordinates we handle, or: the history of the poem as the history of punk. And so Poetry is Not Dead verifies, once and for all, that the poem has never been so alive. Now: who dares to repeat the slogan? No future for us? Were they saying.» Antonio J. Rodríguez