Agony is the first in a trilogy of long confessional poems. It uses semi-rigorous mathematical and logical constraints to view the author’s life and body, telescopically, as little bits of time and space. Everything written here is as true as possible – that is to say, pretty true. It attempts autobiography as a refutation of autobiography, and an elevation of the self as self-effacement. Love pops up as a theme quite a bit. So does self-mutilation, etc. There are a lot of numbers, but don’t worry, it’s more about politics and fantasy than numbers, even though, as usual, they show up everywhere. Just like pieces of your body after you’ve cut them off and scattered them all over the world, and then go out looking for them again, for some reason.