Submerged by the rising waters of the Danube after the construction of the Iron Gates Dam between former Yugoslavia and Romania in the early 1970s, the island of Ada Kaleh is no more. This two-part poem, Ada Kaleh, anxiously unfolds and examines its own landscape of erasures and removals. It is a document of what floods in when you try to remember what you really need to, but can’t. Through collages of voice, persona and place, it is a poem that inhabits an eerie whimsy of amnesia and a violent compulsiveness of memory. The particular collapses into the universal, the individual into the collective, and back again. Have we just been dumped by email? Or are we in bed with William Burroughs? Are we one of Tito’s town-planners? Or are we longing for some obscure reconciliation? ‘Hello you…’