"Thudding through the spine of Nora Treatbaby’s Our Air is her observation 'it is vulnerable to be in awe.' These poems’ political promise is to render us vulnerable: uncovering the source of our wounds so we may touch them. Here, dominant grammars self-destruct and love springs forth from a seed, no longer the property of the naive. Tracing the grotesque shards of capitalist detritus and preaching metaphysical axioms, Treatbaby is our theologian at the end of a world that is ceaselessly refusing to end. I’d follow her anywhere.
—Rosie Stockton

"Delphic, ecstatic, erotic, mystical, riotous, erudite, Our Air rests on the osmosis of surfaces that seemingly exist in a paradoxical state, both as filters and screens. Our Air is a critique of the sutures, the tightness of waged existence, of rent, of regulation, of subjugation, nursed by an accurate distrust of the substance of 'progress': profits grow but cannot flower. Our Air dissolves strictures and binaries with epigrammatic tenderness."
—Adelita Husni-Bey