"Around the ludicrous, colonial-capitalist name Puerto Rico, 'Rich Port,' Las Palmas geographizes, topographizes, hydrologizes an/other set of memorious islands, steadily adrift. These poems, brimming with 'broken' syllables and single letters that question confident meaning-making and verse-reading, as archipelagoes also tend to do, craft a benthic map of unseen affective basins. Here, the insular body--both human and more-than-human--with its dense geological and material history of privations and accretions, comes to restless rest through movements at once wanted and forced. As with William Carlos Williams's indomitable mother from Mayagüez, the poet's madre, tía, hermanas, and abuela, to whom the book is dedicated, constitute an unshakeable chord, if not umbilical then submarinely mountainous, connecting Borikén's sovereign longing to that of all hyper-exploited islands refusing to forget--and to let go of each other.".