poetry

Correctional. Federal. Once in California testing a bad boy’s new car, fast car, we’d found a stretch—oh it sailed— until a white van honked, waved us over. Printed on the…

This summer, we return again to an artist whose work we featured in a previous Where to Submit: Dan Cassidy, who originally provided a print for summer 2016. The macro photograph…

1. Imperatives Warm some oil in a cooking pot and add two or three teaspoonfuls of ghee.  (The clear, clarified butter is called ghee.) Add the appropriate amount of sugar.…

I’m interested in writers who offer exceptional counterpoints to the literary mainstream. These days that usually means people situated outside the Academy.

Poetry from Summer Block   Baby Dreaming In the back seat the baby, sun-striped and damply dreaming: a bright green field bloomed with bunnies and he crawling through the grass…

Poetry from Masha Udensiva-Brenner Baba Tanya Eins, zwei, drei My great grandmother taught me how to count in German. She survived World War I; World War II; evacuation; bombs exploding…

Will any of this change? Possibly, but I cannot predict what kind of outcome a potential change might result in, and there are certainly no easy solutions. Regardless of these issues, as publishers we have do whatever it takes to get our books in the hands of readers, and help create a competitive marketplace.

Poetry from Sara J. Grossman   Stream Protection Act The water spilling out of the coal mine is electric, burns ragweed shoots ocher. This is a hazard, old world style.…

Poetry from Tanner Lee   Whiskey Exes I love the way you once made me burn as I slipped and snuck you around libraries, churches, lecherous you haunt my body…

Poetry from Triin Paja   To Touch, Not To Wound (Concrete, Echoing) what I held was whole winters listening to families     scream from lack,                        women’s wrists bruised into cornflowers,                                                             the…

HUNGER I spent the whole night picking pieces of rice off my shirt to imagine what it might be like to starve. But in the end, I fell asleep because…

how do you explain that you were raped by your doctor to your doctor how do you explain to your doctor that he raped you I was eating my pen,…

Judging by the amount of inquiries we’ve received, you’ve noticed the change: the Where to Submit post is going seasonal, which means that it will be released every three months…

“I strive to incorporate the practice of meditation throughout the entire publishing process. Poetry and books are patient, waiting to be created and read, so we attempt to work and grow like a small but well-tended garden. We search for flowers. We try to subvert the hurry of everything around us. I don’t have a car, so when it’s time to deliver chapbooks, I walk on a trail to the post office and look at trees as I follow the creek that runs through our town.”