Our fearless leader, David Dodd Lee, has a new book of Ashbery erasure poems out now!
“Distance” by Mary Ann Samyn from ROOMS BY THE SEA. Wick Poetry Chapbook Series, 1994.
“Manuscripts for the Wick Poetry Chapbook Series are selected through an open competition of Ohio Poets and through a competition for students enrolled in Ohio universities.” More information on the Kent State University Press and the Wick Poetry Chapbook Series can be found here.
Well, we are a day behind making this announcement, but what can we say, the competition this year was fierce. Thank you to everyone that submitted to our competition this year, without you, this press, specifically, this competition would not be possible.
Our decision was anything but easy, but we are pleased to announce that Nate Pritts has won the (2016) 42 Miles Press Poetry Award for his manuscript, Revenant Tracer. The award includes a $1,000 prize in addition to the publication of his book by 42 Miles Press in September 2017. Nate will give a reading at Indiana University South Bend upon publication. Congratulations, sir. Welcome to the 42 Miles Press family!
A little about our newest author:
Nate Pritts is the Director and Founding Editor of H_NGM_N (2001), an independent publishing house that started as a mimeograph ‘zine and which has grown to encompass an annual online journal, an occasional digital chapbook series, a continuing series of single-author books and sporadic limited edition/low-fi projects.
He is also the author of seven books of poetry, most recently Right Now More Than Ever (2013) and the forthcoming Post Human. Publishers Weekly described his fifth book, Sweet Nothing (2011), as “both baroque and irreverent, banal and romantic, his poems […] arrive at a place of vulnerability and sincerity.” POETRY Magazine called his The Wonderfull Yeare (2009), “rich, vivid, intimate, & somewhat troubled” while The Rumpus called Big Bright Sun (2010) “a textual record of mistakes made and insights gleaned…[in] a voice that knows its part in self-destruction.”
Pritts is an Associate Professor at Ashford University where he serves as Curriculum Lead and Administrative head of the Film program.
A poem from Revenant Tracer:
*An earlier version of “Sonnet No. 44” appeared in Sonnets: Translating and Rewriting Shakespeare (Nightboat Books).
The runners-up for the (2016) 42 Miles Press Poetry Award are:
Graeme Bezanson – The Jewels Are For Luck, first runner-up
Sarah Barber – Country House, second runner-up
Monica Berlin – Maybe To Region, third runner-up
A list of the (2016) 42 Miles Press Poetry Award Finalists (as posted on 6/24/16 ) can be found here.
By Leila Chatti
I like how easily I see
through you. There,
the slumbering bulb
of your heart
between the dead-branch-
thicket of your ribs.
Your fingers spindles
of air, slightly blue around
each tip. All
day I feel their cold
constant touch. You are heavier
than I thought; you cast long shadows
in the dark. I want to spend all night
talking into your silence.
In bed, you curl your whole nothing
against me, arm at my waist
my arm, breath on
my neck, my breath.
* poem from decomP, August 2014 (http://www.decompmagazine.com/ghost.htm)
THINGS THAT ARE MUFFLED OPEN
By Kristin Abraham
the stones tipping off our shoes, the snow.
Each second small and aspirin-flavored,
the learning of childhood. May I sit? May I
stand? Look both ways, please & thank you.
(Curtsy to the crowd.) (Pause for applause.)
May I sit? The world is gathering itself up
to answer, making hesitant check-marks.
May I stand? Lists of hurt already long
enough. Long enough, the world begins,
begins a sigh. So we’re looking at the
cracks in the lampshade. Looking for
the yellow to come through, where there’s biology: electricity: math, meaning
the more we touch it, the more it spreads.
Like menthol, heat rash. The louder it gets.
Stand back; I’m going to need that air.
(Photo by: Madison Blue)
A MAN ON THE SUBWAY
By Anele Rubin
A man on the subway is wearing a t-shirt
with New York City Mental Institute
stenciled on the front.
For a moment I think it’s real.
Then I realize it’s supposed to be funny.
Ha, ha, asshole, I say.
He is smugly reading his paper.
I am so tired of being sad.
*poem from Rattle #38, Winter 2012
It Can Feel Amazing to Be Targeted By a Narcissist
By Angela Veronica Wong & Amy Lawless
Let’s just see if it fits, and your voice blurred, your hand brushing away mine, me laughing because seriously who says that? I flashed out of my body picturing you saying this to other girls, and laughed again. Those are words that can only be said late at night in an outer borough, while Manhattan glitters in rows of mocking unison from over the bridge. Those are the moments when I think how did I get here followed shortly by okay whatever, like now, sitting in the park, watching couples strolling hand-in-hand. Once I made you cupcakes. In the morning before I left, I arranged them on a plate and left them on your kitchen table. Don’t worry, you weren’t the first one I’ve done that for. I’ll just think of the whole thing as a stretching exercise.
*poem from The Best American Poetry 2013, Scribner Poetry, 2013
By Anne Marie Rooney
It was July. It was my birthday. I
was still drinking then. I went with the men
to a lake with no clothing on. The men
who for a year I’d loved hardly and I
walked to the water. All that love hurt my I-
can’t-say-what. My hands knew nothing but men
that year. In snow I stand out. Every man
I’ve ever seen has seen me back. My eyes
sweat from it. Though from there the summer breaks
off, it felt sharp and bright through the last hour,
like glass fired to grow before it breaks
against its own heat. It’s soft, and then it breaks,
and, seeing itself, shifts light. For our
trouble, we were cold and wet for an hour.
*poem from Spitshine, Carnegie Mellon Poetry Series, 2012
We are very excited to announce that Tracey Knapp, of San Francisco, California, has won the 42 Miles Press Poetry Award for her manuscript, Mouth. The award includes a $1,000 prize in addition to the publication of her book by 42 Miles Press in September 2015. Tracey will give a reading at Indiana University South Bend upon publication. Congratulations, Tracey!
Tracey studied art, English and poetry at Syracuse University, Ohio University and Boston University. She grew up in upstate New York, but presently lives in San Francisco, where she works as a graphic designer. Her poems have been anthologized in Best New Poets 2008 and 2010, and have appeared in Five Points, New Ohio Review, The Carolina Quarterly, The Minnesota Review and elsewhere. Tracey has received scholarships from The Tin House Writers’ Workshop and the Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry Fund. Mouth is her first full-length collection of poems.
A Poem from Mouth:
I fell asleep in the grocery line while
waiting to buy you a ham. I was waiting
for the right moment to tell you.
I told you about my first time in
Cincinnati, the man on the bus
who smelled of formaldehyde.
I can still feel his wool jacket
scratching against my bare arm.
I can barely feel my fingers.
It’s so cold that the whiskers
on my dog look like icicles. We
are walking towards the sun’s last
attempt. The snow is stacked so high
but my dog begins digging like there’s
an enormous flank of steak beneath,
and what does he pull up but his old
squeaky whale! We hadn’t seen it since
summer. It’s been a difficult winter.
It’s been difficult to smoke pot
with my accountant. He tells me
it’s not the sixties, and it’s not the first
time I’ve heard that. The first time I heard
about your sick cat, I tried to call but
I heard you were turning yourself
into a grain of sand. I have turned
you into a grain of sand.
This is the first time I can honestly
say that. The first glass of wine
was followed by the next and now
it’s the first Monday at this new
desk, the first Monday I haven’t spent
the evening loathing my thighs
over a glass of wine. Where there’s
self-loathing, there’s yourself,
and then the one bright thing
underneath that makes life
worth digging for.
* first published in Best New Poets, 2008
2014 Finalists and Semi-Finalists list:
Admussen, Nick – “Fly or Flight”
Aliperti, Pia – “Solitude Must Share My Solitude”
*Berlin, Monica – “Nostalgia for a World Where We Can Live”
*Bursk, Christopher – “Enough for Any Mortal”
Chambers, Ashley – “The People I Make”
*Coutley, Lisa Fay – “tether”
Deming, Lynn – “In the Honeycomb Of Bone”
Finnell, Dennis – “Bright Containers”
Garcia, Kim – “The Brighter House”
Gottesman, Les – “The Humiliations”
Gutstein, Dan – “Cent / R.I.P. / et al.”
Kanke, Jennifer Schomburg – “Crash Course in the Philosophy of Passion”
*Kaplan, Dan – “instant killer wig”
Keniston, Ann – “Lament / Praise”
*Kuperman, Jaimee – “A Day at the Gene Pool”
Lavers, Michael – “The Theory of Everything”
*Lawless, Gregory – “I’ve Seen Thee Far Away”
Malboeuf, Jennie – “Heavy Animals”
Matthews, Clay – “Four-Way Lug Wrench”
McDowell, Gary L. – “Mysteries in a World that Thinks There Are None”
*Moran, Patrick – “There Are Things We Live Among”
*Myers, Gabrielle – “The Hive”
*Nelson, Dustin Luke – “Activity, Group”
*Pugh, Megan – “Whipsaw”
Rathkamp, Josh – “In Response”
Rees, Elizabeth – “What to Pack, What to Carry”
Ruzkowski, Andrew – “Don’t Be Scared the Light is Perfect”
Schlaifer, Stephanie Ellis – “Clarkston Street Polaroids”
Sereno, Prartho – “my work with elephants”
*Staley, Tim – “Lost on My Own Street”
* denotes finalist
THREE POEMS BY ZACHARY SCHOMBURG
THIS IS NOT FOG THIS IS COBWEBS
This is not fog
this is cobwebs.
All I have is cobwebs.
I will make a dress
with my fingers
the fragile silk
I’M RIGHT HERE I’M A KIND OF LAMP
I’m right here.
I’m a kind of
for you to see
the baby how
THE BLACK HOLE
I found a black hole
behind the abandoned hotel.
when I pushed you into it
you just kept falling
at its infinite lip.
You looked like the second hand
of a clock
without a clock.
You looked like an arm
That’s the sound
* all poems from Scary, No Scary, Black Ocean, 2009.