"Tomorrow someone will arrest you" by Meena Kandasamy

A 97 minute audio book of poetry. It's not performance poetry, nor is it too hard to cope with aurally, but I can't drive, mop, or weed the allotment while I'm listening, like I can while listening to a novel. I think it might be useful in such books to highlight the titles somehow (i.e indicate where poems start/end). Of course, I didn't understand many of the allusions. I liked "A wild woman on a word hunt", the essay/poem about colour and cultures (Homer, Gladstone, etc), and several other pieces. I wasn't keen on the title poem. The endnotes give the political background, explaining the intentions. Here are a few quotes -

• when a cat shuts its eyes, the world does not turn dark (it's a Tamil proverb)
• [I] dream of moonsoons back home as London rains on my window
• it was suffering that let you be seen

To my surprise, I liked the book.

• Ankit Rath (Kandasamy has been known to be a radical voice and a “one-woman political movement,” and it has often been reflected in her prior works ... Kandasamy employs every technique and style at her disposal, making for an anthology that is equal parts activism and experimentation. The collection has been conveniently and aptly divided into five sections, namely “The Poet”, “Her Comrade”, “Her Lovers”, “Her Friends”, and “Her Country” ... Tomorrow Someone Will Arrest You may not be the best of Kandasamy, but it is, in every way possible, the quintessential Kandasamy.)
• Shara Atashi (Kandasamy uses everything at her disposal – voice, language and form – to interweave documented reality and to prove that poetry is present in everything, even in true horror. )
• Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee (about the title poem, with background info)
• Jaideep Khanduja (For a book that purports to be a manifesto of resistance, it felt more like an overzealous cacophony—a relentless barrage of disjointed thoughts that never quite coalesced into something meaningful. ... One of the book’s most glaring weaknesses is how it handles its themes. Surveillance, oppression, identity—these are profound and important topics, but Kandasamy’s approach feels more like a lecture than an exploration. There’s no room for you, the reader, to think or reflect; ... Lines that should linger in your mind instead make you roll your eyes. For instance, the judiciary being described as “a graveyard of hope” is neither original nor impactful; it’s a platitude masquerading as profundity. ... I couldn’t help but wonder: who is the intended audience for this book? It’s too alienating for the casual reader, too heavy-handed for those seeking intellectual engagement, and too scattered for anyone looking for a compelling narrative. It’s a book that seems to exist more to make a statement about the author’s defiance than to truly connect with its readers.)
• Moumita Alam (She is straightforward without obscurity and the use of simple language and texture makes her stand out as a poet. )