Tod Thilleman’s book Egghead To Underhoof is nothing but brink. Not stacked, really—but trickling downward in chaotic organization. This entire little (in size and not in message/s) book is a dripping manifesto. A bent form of address hinged together by sound (“foment no/ moment” […] “oval, only ova”) that emits from the characters prevalent in “turgid wet growth.”

Here in Underhoof we get to become nomadic wares by way of our proximity to “thinking each as an annihilation” in conjunction with “fertility is utility.” This conjunction (where we have been positioned) allows us to inhabit destruction (by way of path through) as well as oestrus (by way of propagations/continuities).

ETU puts “sex/souls” into the “worm’s blank” and in doing so increases “home’s length.” I am relieved to enter and move through a book like ETU because in it I feel “we, multitudinous.” As an “tangled segment []” there is no need for me to delineate the words/sounds from themselves, nor is there need for me to be delineated from them. Instead, the “many unborn” of me–of capacity, fill to the point of the brim. Become a collective at the edge of______ (brink).

Full frontal. Open. Enabled. Bearing.

In the same way that full frontal is both vulnerable and strong ETU is a type of augury specifying itself by way of necessary movement. “Glints irreverent” through an already extant (Root-Cellar To Riverine) undulation.

Ungulate mammals use the tips of their toes to stabilize their entire weight while moving. Tod Thilleman’s ETU is itself a hoof. So what is it to find ourselves under it? Or enabled to run by way of it?