Portland

The summer you were conceived had an apocalyptic feel to it. It started with the heat. In our normally fair city, it sweltered past ninety for days. Your father and…

Image Credit: Patrick Moreau Regina Spektor lyrics from the song “Bon idée” in SONGS.     In my basement bedroom in my semi-rural, semi-arid hometown, I lie in bed all…

My grandfather’s house stood on the corner of Beech Street in northeast Portland. The two-story home, shaded by tall and leafy trees, sat adjacent to a garage, a workspace filled…

Markham and I were in the hot tub the other day talking about spirituality, nature and art, how these things are what people in the twenty-first century want more than…

Dad ashes his cigarette in the freshly washed, plastic black ashtray beside the recliner while working through his daily crossword in The Oregonian. To make skin tones, I start out…

With no literary publishing experience to speak of—just a love of reading and writing poems—Founding Editor Sid Miller (and associates) released the first issue of Burnside Review in 2004 in Portland, Oregon. Legend has it it was laid out in Word. It was. Things got better.

We wanted to model the press after a public space and create an open dialog with readers and writers. Our vision was—and still is—to make beautiful, lasting books and offer an old-world subscription series by mailing books directly to readers’ doorsteps. We wanted to publish new work, but we’re also committed to the backward glance in that we frequently re-issue great work that has fallen out of print. We want lost and obscure—but deserving—books to enter back into the cultural fray.

Like Octopus we’d rather be semi-pro than pro; more concerned with words and sounds and less concerned with spreadsheets and career paths. Our mission, ultimately, is to put out vinyl records of our favorite poets reading their poems. 2 records a year is the goal for the foreseeable.

We believe that money both ruins and rules the world, and we’re at its tentacled whims just like everyone else. That being said, all our books are fairly cheap—$7 or $8 depending, shipping included—and one of Dikembe’s goals is to put great literature into the world at a reasonable price. And we are a utilitarian press, in that our books look great but they’re also meant to be read; we use a tape binding on each and print on perfectly thick and readable but not fancy paper. So we’re all about attempting to get books into readers’ hands without charging a proverbial arm and leg.

The most exciting thing, as far as I’m concerned, is the broadening recognition that the lack of diversity in publishing is a serious problem. We are in the midst of a surge forward in the publishing of writers of color, women writers, and writers under the wide trans umbrella. It’s about time. The movement forward will benefit all of us concerned with the strength and relevance of art.

Jigsaw Youth by Tiffany Scandal Ladybox Books, 2015 166 pages – Ladybox Books (Broken River) / Amazon   On the one hand, love is a dastardly invention. It will drive you to…

We see ourselves as a little corner of the conversation, as a place to forward innovative, smart, new poetry into the hands of readers. We only exist because we feel like we have a way of contributing, to make richer the things we’re already influenced by. We also have a reading series here in Portland called Bad Blood where our authors, and other touring poets, read to some of the best audiences in the country. We make books, and then we read them.