We'll call it poetry. "I'm not fucking anne carson," Abigail Adams retorts... Abigail Adams is reluctant, rebellious, bored and better looking; a poetic voice for the queerly acute in a post-everything world. At times, ABIGAIL ADAMS resembles a shrine to a muse or a raison d'etre; at others, a hard-edged declaration of independence — an act of grave resistance against political fatigue and complacency. Led by a judicious eye for diversion, poems like "Fashion" dress-up ennui in pop fabrics and read like an afternoon spent vaping with the Bronta- sisters. More searching and sinister are lush passages like "Nut Cracker", or "Baby Father", which offer longing in the image of God or a revolver. Raw and personal, Chaves proves another medium evocative, and much like his paintings, yields yet another colorful work of distinct genius. ABIGAIL ADAMS is the first book of poetry by visual artist Alex Chaves and a work in "The Amerikan Green Cross" (Night Gallery, September 2015).