Luanne Castle (Chapbook Confessions #5)

Chapbook Confessions is a series in which poets discuss, at length, the writing of their most recent collection of poems, in whatever way they desire. For more information on the series, go here. Below, Luanne Castle writes on her 2015 collection, Doll God (Aldrich Press).   When I first read the Chapbook Confessions project, I…

Kathy Boles-Turner (Chapbook Confessions #4)

Chapbook Confessions is a series in which poets discuss, at length, the writing of their most recent collection of poems, in whatever way they desire. For more information on the series, go here. Below, Kathy Boles-Turner writes on her 2018 collection, Ramshackle Houses & Southern Parables.   Listening. That’s all I was doing when poetry…

Robert Okaji (Chapbook Confessions #3)

Chapbook Confessions is a series in which poets discuss, at length, the writing of their most recent collection of poems, in whatever way they desire. For more information on the series, go here. Below, Robert Okaji writes on his 2017 collection From Every Moment a Second.  Chapbook Confession, or, How to Write Chapbooks without Knowing…

Adrian Slonaker (4 Poems)

The Kids Who Moved Away Long before social media and internet searches, there were the derelict desks whose occupants had vanished like the Roanoke colonists. Tendrils of classroom cliffhangers wrapped around each void: Did Tanya graduate from her frog voice? Did David forgo flood pants? Did Kim snap Polaroids in Nairobi? You imagined faces frozen…

Amy Soricelli (5 Poems)

Teacher Training I cannot sit her down and say things that will make the difference in the shape of her feet or sounds from the kids she teaches when they ask all the time; they ask about the world and the lonesome way people behave. She will say things now, on the phone, that startle…

Michael Vecchio (5 Poems)

A Mythical Bird A mythical bird said to breed in winter In a nest floating on the sea is more actual than sand drifting distantly over dunes when darkness builds a canopy because belief removes any doubt that wings will be feathered full and the glass they cover fished through. From ‘An Allegiance to Some’,…

Stephanie L. Harper (7 Poems)

To the Dead White-Throated Sparrow in my driveway: Would you at least do me the courtesy of an explanation? What’s with your belly-mound-cenotaph arisen from the stony gloom spiel? And why this exquisite bundle of yours, with its still-tender russets folded in the unbounded repose of a napping cherub, as if you didn’t believe you…

Hannah Rousselot (4 Poems)

Hollow Glasses clink and mouths smile and jewelry sparkles and eyes are hungry hawks. This dress is too tight. My smile is too tight. My stomach is too tight. I wish I could peel off my skin to stretch it out over the curve of the Earth. Maybe I would finally be skinny enough. I…

Richard Weaver (10 Poems)

The subject of these poems, Walter Anderson, a Mississippi Gulf Coast artist who died in 1965, spent most of his time on the Barrier Islands off the coast of Mississippi. The first 6 poems are reflections of that. The final four are set in China during the Cultural revolution. Anderson attempted to walk across China…

William Doreski (2 Poems)

At the Grave of Randall Jarrell The clunk and rasp of building a wood fire distracts but warms me. You love the grunt and groan of chores, talking to the cats, paying bills we can’t afford to pay. Meanwhile I’m picturing a pair of cypress almost doubled over with ice in a North Carolina graveyard….

Barton Smock (8 Poems)

funereal as some things incorrectly have wings, we stamp a chicken into the hood of a cop car. the groundskeeper on break inside the church wonders aloud how much is left of the lord. a boy not part of our boyhood bikes over to us with his feet he’s named individually show and tell. the…

Pablo Cuzco (5 Poems)

Flowers of Dawn A yellow moon over the rooftops—striking in silence—blue sky, dark and twinkling—stars meld into street light—alleyways cluttered with bottles clink | a cat howls in summer heat— water washes away the smear | bleary-eyed and broken, I stumble among dust bins and sediment of the living—crowned with a halo—spirits | God and…