Tag: Poetry

  • Seafaring Split, 2016 poetry chapbooks by Jessica Q. Stark and Kiley McLaughlin

    Seafaring Split, 2016 poetry chapbooks by Jessica Q. Stark and Kiley McLaughlin

    Image: Josh Dorman, “Night Fishing II”   Table of Contents \\\Side A///Jessica Q. StarkThe Liminal Parade “Strange Beasts”“Tissue Cultures in Auckland”“Epileptic Release Hounds”“Gizzard Stones”“Re: Pls Fwd All Future Arrangements” 2015 WinnerDouble Take Poetry PrizeSelected by Dorothea Lasky   *   \\\Side B///Kiley McLaughlinACTION PRAISE PRAISE “Action”“And Praise and Praise” 2015 Runner Up Double Take Poetry…

  • Shirts or Skins, a 2014 poetry chapbook by Jim Redmond

    Shirts or Skins, a 2014 poetry chapbook by Jim Redmond

    Image: Cristina Troufa   Winner of the 2014 Heavy Feather Chapbook AwardJudge Noah Eli Gordon, author of The Word Kingdom in the Word Kingdom: “Jim Redmond’s poems are situated between the palm at the end of the mind and the parking lot of a now-gutted Midwestern Denny’s. Like the twisted portraiture of Francis Bacon or…

  • Facts about Snakes & Hearts, a 2015 poetry chapbook by Flower Conroy

    Facts about Snakes & Hearts, a 2015 poetry chapbook by Flower Conroy

    Image: Michael McConnell   Winner of the 2015 Heavy Feather Chapbook AwardJudge Kristina Marie Darling, author of Dark Horse: “Formally dexterous and luminous in its imagery, Flower Conroy’s Facts about Snakes & Hearts skillfully situates the age-old tradition of the love lyric in a postmodern literary landscape. Presenting us with ‘flames,’ ‘a wishing bell,’ and…

  • Flavor Town USA Poetry: “The Lowcountry Chef” from THE DUST THAT SINGS by Alex Gregor

    Flavor Town USA Poetry: “The Lowcountry Chef” from THE DUST THAT SINGS by Alex Gregor

    down on the banks of the Ocmulgee River,we ride that coal train to the steps of the cemetery,where the lowcountry chef soaks red beans in well water& grinds down brown rice to flour, sayin, i crack an egg open on the spring equinox, slice offa piece of salami & squeak. holdin a jar of honeysuckle…

  • Three Haunted Passages Poems by Jordan Stempleman

    Three Haunted Passages Poems by Jordan Stempleman

    Problem Solving I wanted to watch a Western,a dirtier the better Western, where everybodyaccidentally kills everybodyjust after they say in unisonThe purpose of pop cultureis summary, and just after they take off their hats,and long before they ever revealwho they really are.Guns are allowedif they’re always going off.And the people who do survivesurvive in spite…

  • “Dream of Me,” a Haunted Passages poem by David Ly

    “Dream of Me,” a Haunted Passages poem by David Ly

    I’m walking downa cold tunnel. The walls curveup to a ceiling of water. An enormoustentacled shadowpasses over, making the hairs stand on the back of my neck.Ahead of me, a boy appearsturned away from me, dripping wet not even shivering.I tilt my headand so does he. My heart begins beating quicker because nobody should be…

  • Flavor Town USA Poetry: “The Hourglasses” from THE DUST THAT SINGS by Alex Gregor

    Flavor Town USA Poetry: “The Hourglasses” from THE DUST THAT SINGS by Alex Gregor

    when i carried my fiddle down to the river of silver,i paddled upstream through currents of molassestill i heard the bellows of a bandoneonfill up with the fog & the dew,then push out steam. so i slipknot rope round rusty iron cleat& followed the trill of that squeezeboxthrough the vines & the reedstill a boat…

  • “Metal, Heavy”: An Interview with Poet Micah D. Zevin on His Debut Book by Gillian Cummings

    “Metal, Heavy”: An Interview with Poet Micah D. Zevin on His Debut Book by Gillian Cummings

    What is more surreal, a world where “a ghost takes the form of a man, / seemingly out of nowhere, and / stabs you with their long knife shaped arm / of martial law” or a world where men with “wolf teeth and dead eyes shout: Pollute! Pollute! Pollute! / from the rooftops as they…

  • “while we wait for a vaccine,” a Bad Survivalist poem by Michele Popadich

    “while we wait for a vaccine,” a Bad Survivalist poem by Michele Popadich

    i flock to the lawless. bleachmy hair purple & lob uneven bangs.finally, a stranger to wave to in the foggy medicinecabinet. the sink sprouts split ends & i ask a boyup. pinky my finger into his elasticband. he replaces the cat that has been tuckedbetween my legs for seven months. i write storiesthat mean nothing…