Newcomer reprint and Barbara Guest special sale.
Just a quick note at this flurried time of year—
For everyone who has gone without, Renee Gladman’s Newcomer Can’t Swim has ben reprinted—right on time for the holidays and the start of Spring 2010 semester.
Also, KSP is offering a special Guest bundle. Buy 3 collaborations Barbara Guest did with three amazing artists for only $30. Only a few of these rare and delicate books remain on our shelves. Scroll below for a glimpse into each one.
Musicality with June Felter.
Stripped Tales with Anne Dunn
Symbiosis with Laurie Reid
December 19, 2009
New poems from Lauren Levin’s Not Time.
Other pieces from this manuscript were recently published in a chapbook by the same name, by Boxwood Editions.
Not that you can’t but impossibility of the last year
holds same spot in my mind as to strain for pictures
prickling blank but on my terms exactly I think she was able
to hear that dire permission of control. Life
in instance of defining, I think I’m on a land spit.
Life in second, old job space, Antica Fonte.
To bring in calls would bring much more,
like sailboats of which the lens-flare water.
Targeting my energies. The art music school is nice,
not going today it felt of swollen extra gifts I miss.
The kid had beat me up. The cop shot him in the head
he kept lumbering around
Cop said, sometimes they do that I admired
your impossible confusion
Let’s see where you go to share that
Some of more clearest & most sentimental handles
brutally yanked
brutally I prefer to always be nothing about
”I am and will” will proceed less of you,
that’s a grievance. The past goes in each of you
is, more than imagines. Jeffrey, I say, reproach,
sexual sadness. This man’s turning a hip and belt.
It skids under the pen being shoved by the body
Threading through my table, this means wearing hip & belt.
More people passing and swiveling their backs to me
at the minute, periscoping and with their vantage on top,
older men mostly – I fear that. That when.
The fear I think about is persisting as a good.
Alright, you’re pumped up, no sweat,
bleeding like wet Sharpie, the bag
from my swimsuit, not as a torn feeling
of future past losing the bag.
A peck to be of resume.
Blue fire clenched the burner,
the burner like the pistil-stamens blob.
From turning the knob high, the blue –
is it still mystical-accentual. Aggrieved:
I don’t think I control the meaning, navy blue
light blue pale blue, like a wild dog.
I push the glass door for a start of unease,
Reflected lamp swinging in it, which I shouldn’t be able to –
I love you because if you are in the future it means you have persisted.
December 13, 2009
New Vertical Answers from Naropa student Jessica Schwab.
A Poem in Response to the Twelve Questions
1.
I
Am an entity
With spaces, and shapes
Different from the boy I
Do.
2.
I
Came from a
Dark place:
Water
And silence.
Arrived and
Looked around.
I cried
When he gave me
A shot.
3.
I do not know.
4.
I hope to figure this out.
5.
Outside
I am curves
And slight dimples.
Soft.
Juxtaposed.
6.
Mother cries
Because father died.
7.
My second mother
My second home.
She sleeps
Because we are mean to her.
She doesn’t mind.
We will pay the price eventually.
8.
Frantically
I do nothing.
9.
Elizabeth fell
Off the swing.
Shock across her face.
Tears in my eyes.
I see her left arm,
10.
Hands
Of Strong stature.
I wake up.
They find their way
To me.
11.
I will
Continue to
Do what I am doing
Right now.
12.
Everything
And nothing.
–Jessica Schwab, from Art of the Engaged Writer: Writing 1 Seminar at Naropa.
December 7, 2009
Brain mapping, memory formation and
December 6, 2009
1220 Wood Street House Reading
Susan Gevirtz reads from the new chap Broadcast (Trafficker Press). The glowing, post-Jerry Garcia honey bear, Susan’s amber necklace, a bonfire that came after. Even goldeny threads in Baby Sitka’s quilt. This kind of light presided.
Lauren Levin reads from new work in what I was thinking of as the Masterpiece Theater chair.
Thanks to 1220 Wood Street(Erin, Ted and Michelle) for a lovely event.