Friday, September 29, 2006

While I'm sort of letting the stuff simmer for girl show as I work out the ordering and what shape I want the thing to take, I've turned my attention back to the defunct (or, now, not so defunct) instabilities project (now including the phobia poems). Am thinking of where I might want to send it, who might publish such an odd little manuscript. I don't think it'd fare well in the contest ring--a little too all over the place in terms of style, even though pretty focused thematically. It's wound up being a sort of amalgamation of errata series pieces, most of the poems from feign, and a few other pieces with a scientific feel, in addition to the phobia ones. Somehow I feel like these pieces need to exist together in some more cohesive way than all these separate little series. I had worked out my ordering pretty well in the spring (when I was still thinking of using it as my thesis mss.), so it's looking fairly good, specially with the phobia poems in there. And it feels a bit like closure on the project, though who knows, the themes have been working their way into the visual stuff lately. Maybe there's no such thing as closure.

Tomorrow, whilst working, I plan on digging seriously into laying out the all-alice issue. I missed my deadline by miles, but it's a giant issue so I'm not all too upset. Plus I've been preoccupied lately with much ordinary life stuff. I did secure the cover art to use on The Traffic in Women, so we're in business there. And did some preliminary designs for the fast on its heels Parapherna.

Thursday, September 28, 2006

in the mail

featuring poems by yours truly, as well as a whole passel of other good folks...
The Esquire

Sadly one of my favorite places to see a movie whilst avoiding the craziness of closed to make room for some more bougie oak Street boutiques and tourist traps...

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

small world

Several times this week, in various places, the subject of the tinyness of the poetry world has arisen in a few different places, good or bad, and I have to call bullshit on that one..the poetry world, in general, is by no means small at all (look at the stats of MFA grads alone). I like to think of it as a bunch of different overlapping circles, different cadres of poets organized around presses, limags, reading series, geographic communities, with alot of cross-polination, some accepted/ part of/ chained to the mainstream po-biz world (ie, where the money and "prestige" is.) But usually, that's where the most corruption is, where the circle is the tightest and unyielding, and it's members not really interested in much outside it, thereby protecting their own exclusivity. These are the people, for the most part, at least the ones that yield power, who use smallness as an excuse for all sorts of heinousness (ie. awarding contests to one's freinds, etc.)Even if you consider the folks publishing in higher end journals, there's several different aesthetics, styles, and communities of poets represented. The discussion in the emerging class focused predominantly on the Verse/Fence crowd, since that was what was represented alot among the journals folks were bringing in. But even that, despite the ubiquity, is really just a fraction of the whole, even in the big leaugues.

It's not really about publishing your friends really, or even yourself that irks me (OBVIOUSLY), but a kind of myopia that puts oneself, and one's cicle, however falsely at the center of poetry as we know it, and using that as an excuse for all sorts of badness.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Saturday, September 23, 2006

books, etc...

What a treat to arrive home, after a very wet, stormy commute once again, to find a package of goodies from the very generous Nicole Cartwright Denison in exchange for chapbooks, including a little Alice in Wonderland tote, some handmade paper, a wired voltive holder, and some delectable sugar scrub and bath salts. I'd also gotten some cool stuff from Jill Bergkamp last week--including great Wizard of Oz postcards. Also in the mail the past couple of days, chaps from H_NGM_N and Anne Boyer's Little Ones. I'm waiting, as well, on an amazon order with Carly Sach's the steam sequence, Matthea Harvey's first book, and CD Wright's selected, thus finishing off that nice little Amazon gift certificate I won a few months back. Now if only I had time to read..
Last night, we had some crazy weather that set off the city's tornado sirens, though apparently there were only funnel cloud sightings, nothing on the ground. The sky was the most interesting shade of green, though, just ripe for it. Then it just poured and poured. After heading home, I ended up watching a decent horror movie "The Dark," all Welsh countryside, trepanation, and scary little girls, perfect for a dreary night.

Today's tasks included tweaking the layout on the print annual (which I plan to print tomorrow if all goes well) and updating the dgp website, plus messing a bit with cover ideas for the next few chaps. Also took a perusal through this week's manuscripts for thesis seminar, which got me thinking about projects as poets. I realize at some point I really became focused on individual projects, which has no doubt spurred me to write more, since I have a goal, a direction. It also helps me to be able to "finish" things, for the most part. To be able to move onto the next thing. Maybe it's that practical nose to the grindstone Taurean side of me, but if left to wander aimlessly, writing poems about whatever moves me, I'd never write a damned thing. Too little focus. Or maybe it's those fiction writing roots, to stay focused and work through to completion. To get at things from a bunch of different angles. Sure I often fall off into interesting little diversions, but those things eventually become projects themselves. Right now, there's pulling together girl show, the the barest bones of dulcet, the Cornell project, the phobia poems, and a new fledgeling little project called a brief history of fire, mostly city/Chicago poems. Of course, I get so many things rolling and I never finish anything, but getting girl show in shape is the priority (I think I might like to begin submitting it over the winter.) And the Cornell stuff, since we're planning an April release. And then, who knows..

Thursday, September 21, 2006

coming September 25th

This third annual issue features selected work from the online issue over the past year, including poems by Arlene Ang, Robyn Art, Elizabeth Glixman, Juliet Cook, Rebecca Cook, Susan Cronin, Alison Daniel, Lightsey Darst, Gillian Devereaux, Brett Griffiths, Liz Dolan, Melanie Dusseau, Katie Fesuk, Jeannine Hall Gailey, Ona Gritz, Lauren Levato, Heather MacPherson, Maurice Oliver, Jayne Pupek, Carly Sachs, Erin Elizabeth Smith, and Susan Yount.

order here

(ps. contributors copies should be in the mail late this week)

Lots of brouhaha over the BAP and its selection process. I’m not a fan all so much of the series--suspicious of the “Best” in the title like everyone else. I’ve always sort of suspected that Lehman had a heavy hand in what actually reached the GE, who unless they were a rabid reader of literary mags (which would be the ideal situation), probably don‘t have much of a clue of what‘s published as a whole in a given year. As is, of course it’s going to be a little skewed as to what makes it in. And yes, while alot of those that make it in are awesome poets (see list here), it seems a little unfair they get a leg up from Lehman, while a lot of other poets and poems, even in the same magazines, don't have any such advantage. That’s the “po-biz” part (who you know/who you blow) that makes a lot of us squeamish. Some people just accept it as the status quo and go on about their business unscathed. And admittedly, the flipside of "cronyism" is "community", which is fine when the stakes aren't so high (or SEEM to be so high).

By its nature, I think the poetry world is way too large for anyone anthology to claim to have a handle on it. And no one should probably even claim to--thus my difficulty with “Best.” Anyone can have an anthology, and all of them are going to be slanted in some way. Think of Legitimate Dangers (which we‘re using for a text in the Emerging Poetries class), a volume which has a lot of poets I really like, but it’s obvious the sort of crowd you needed as a poet to be in with--certain MfA programs, certain presses.. etc. Not even taking into account Lehman’s picks, think of how often a rather unspectacular Gluck or Oliver or *insert big name here* poem makes it in, simply because of that big name. It’s not democratic, and everyone in there probably has an edge of some sort--be it they know Lehman, the GE, were in the right publication at the right time, have made a big enough name for themselves that the editors know to go looking to include poems by them. However, I do agree it’s sort of skeezy to not be upfront about it though on Lehman’s part, to continually insist it’s all democratic and no one has an edge. Someone always has an edge. And in something like BAP, which is percieved as the big leaugues by so many fledgling poets, that seemes unfair. If Lehman were choosing his assistants for an issue of a magazine, there probably wouldn't be any complaints, but the anthology has a certain weight, an obligation that Lehman obviously neglects.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Last night was pretty productive in terms of class. Some great feedback on the first few poems of girl show-considerations about sections or no. Ordering, etc. I sort of like the idea of no sections, just a continuous series of little vignettes , which sort of ties in with the sideshow thing, sort of like the ten-in-one. Almost the effect as if you were walking through and looking in the windows, one after another. But then sections offer a breather sometimes, though, like we talked about in class, sometimes they tend to overshadow, overcomplicate. argh…I have no idea. I do remember that word “vignette” though also describes photographs with softened unbordered edges, which sort of mirrors the shape-shifty indeterminacy of the poems. Interesting.

In other news, the wicked alice print annual, long awaited as it is, is almost done being laid out..I just have to do the bios at the end, some tweaking, and we're set. If I would just stop being sick and feel better, things would progress much faster. What I thought were just allergies seem to have been a cold, which evolved into a rather nasty sore throat, which went away, but now I'm still stuffy and croaky, and not feeling at all like doing much beyond surviving and drinking lots of mint tea and eating soup. I think I've tackled everything I let slide in my inbox, as well as filled all the outstanding dgp orders from the last couple of weeks. Next, it's getting that print issue done, then onto laying out the all alice anniversary issue. And then, our next dgp book, Kristina Marie Darling's The Traffic in Women, which we've just started batting around cover ideas for, which should be released in late October.

sooo wrong..

but damn funny

Sunday, September 17, 2006

I was just siting here trying to read at the table, trying to figure out why it was getting so damned dark outside, and realized it's just clouding up. I have at least until closer to seven til it starts actually getting dark. It was warm today earlier, in the eighties, but it looks like it's breaking.

I've been working most of the day on school things--I have to prepare a short little presentation on a literary magazine that publishes "emerging american poetry" as per the class's nomer. I chose The Tiny, since there seems to be lots of emerging and nigh emerging folks in there. Also we have some reading to do in some little bitsy book on literary theory, (so small I seem to have lost it on my desk). Start talking theory and I have bad first round of grad school flashbacks--that hulking copy of The Critical Tradition, glowering at me from the bookshelf a few feet away. I'm all down with the feminist/marxist theory stuff, but alot of the other just confuses the bejesus out of me. We had a whole semester course devoted to it at DePaul, but I remember sort of absorbing it, spewing it back out in a couple of essays, then just never thinking about it again. Too hard to wrap my head around. Definitely, why I'd never make it as a scholar.

We also, for the thesis seminar, have to write up a contract on what we hope to accomplish, what we want from the class, given that people are at various stages with their manuscripts at this point. I've got the whole mess that is girl show, which has just been sort of pouring out since the bginning of the year, without any rhyme or reason, so I'm looking for help mostly with organization, and getting it work as a book as whole. I did discover last Monday that they have miraculously done away with the critical portion of the thesis, which will infinitely make my life a helluva lot easier in the coming year. At first I was a little hesitant (is this just another way of dumbing things down--separating the creative writing and literature curriculum even further than they already are). Then I was like, seriously, I'll willingly be dumb if that means one less half-assed essay I have to write. Color me happy.

Friday, September 15, 2006


Some more artwork up at Unlikely Stories 2.0....

mini-collages/$3 each

available at the dgp studio.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

The latest issue of Backwards City Review has been released into the wilds, and lookee here, my poem is on the website. I haven't seen the whole issue yet, but I'm liking the looks of the issue's contributors...

Sunday, September 10, 2006

After two run-throughs, finding virtually nothing wrong with the proofs, and then another since I was incredulous there was nothing wrong, the fever almanac is back in the hands of Ghost Road. And amazingly, this was the first set of galleys I’d seen --or maybe I’m just a crappy editor since dgp books always go back at least once (usually twice) for corrections. Regardless, we’re one step closer. Today, it really feels like fall---dreary,blustery, grey. Cool enough that I had to close the windows and sleep under the quilt. The days are getting shorter, too. Sucks it’s only seven and almost dark. Yesterday, I survived my first Saturday back in the library and didn’t really get anything much accomplished editing wise, but I am settling into a routine at least, which is always hard after those long luxurious summer weekends (long meaning two-days instead of one). Tomorrow, my first day of classes--”Emerging American Poetry” with Arielle at 11:00 and then the thesis seminar at 6:00 with David. There’s a longer than usual gap in between, but I’ll spend most of it camped out at Corner Bakery and try to get some writing done, which usually works, since I’m always a little inspired after class --from the readings, from discussions--(unless I’m having the opposite reaction---lividness, though that doesn‘t happen as much anymore.) Either way, it seems good for the poems.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

dgp goes to awp

Just made all the arrangements, and am making nearly a whole week of it, road trip and all, since I don't get down to Atlanta..well..never. Heard some talk that the conference hotel was booked up mostly and, really, was a little too spendy, even with the discount..(and who wants to help finance anything that had a hand in creating this monstrosity.) I finally opted for the Sheraton, a block or so away, which was slightly cheaper, and suitably swank. We'll be sharing table space at the bookfair with the Switchback Books crew, which will no doubt be raucous fun. I know at least one author will be able to do some signing (since she'll likely sitting right there at the table and all) and I'm thinking Jen Tynes whose book will also be hot off the press will mostly likely be around and about as well. Any of you past, present, future, dgp gals coming? I'll put you to fast work...

As for me I will be shoving books into the hands of the willing and unwilling, and trying to prod folks into the direction of NMP's table to buy feign. The rest of the time I'll likely be either delightfully drunk listening to to other delightfully drunk poets or in the pool-side bar at the Sheraton getting that way. You know where to find me...

An Open Letter to my Loyola Student Neighbors:

A) This is not a dorm, but an apartment building where grown-ups live. People not particularly interested in sharing your four-year-long suspended adolescence. Please do not make excessive noise coming or going or once in your apartment (excessive meaning that which may be heard more than two apartments or floors away). This includes, but is not limited to: running squealing like a stupid drunk girl down the hallway, loud travel between floors and units, Metallica at top decibel on repeat for three hours, shouting out of windows, knocking on doors as if you were on fire, 3am suburban whitebread fighting on the sidewalk out front, and/or loud parties involving group renditions of “Bohemian Rhapsody” at the top of your lugs.

B) Failure to refrain from the above behavior will necessitate not the presence of a sympathetic RA and campus security rent-a-cops, but several of Chicago’s finest. Mom and Dad will certainly frown upon hauling your ass out of jail and may just confiscate that extra kegger money.

C) Contrary to the age you typically behave, this is not your parent’s house. Please keep your trash, junk, and expulsion of all bodily fluids limited to your own apartment.

Friday, September 08, 2006

interneta manifesta

As I was admiring my poems in those two latest issues below (yes, I like my poems, so shoot me), I started thinking about the whole online vs. print debate I’ve talked about before, riled about, bitched about. It’s coming down to this lately--I think I simply like submitting things to online journals, even when they’re rejected. The response time, and lead time to the issue, is much faster, more immediate. I can say, “hey, here’s my poem-read it.. (of course you can say “shut the hell up, you suck” and choose not to.) My point is that I’ve really gotten tired of six to sixteen month response times, and worse, increasing numbers on just non-responsive editors. But still I like chunky little journals, nice paper, perfect binding (or even lovely little DIY missives like Hot Whiskey). At some point I started shying away from that whole academic complex of journals...the ones I’m told I’m supposed to want to get into. The ones which wouldn’t publish me most likely given I’m not swimming with the right sharks, teaching/went to school in the right place, or writing the right sorts of poems, you know, like the ones they already publish. This may sound like bitter boo-whooing, but it’s more than that. I have stumbled somehow into a couple more academic journals over the last couple of years; CPR, of course, which always pretty good, and hardly exactly your status quo academic journal, and Spoon River, which feel a little more homegrown, but maybe only since it’s published in Illinois and things that seem local aren‘t quite so intimidating. I'v submitted to others like Kenyon Review, Jubilat, Field, Smartish Paceat least once, a couple years ago in an ambition fueled frenzy, not really because I’d read much of or liked the journals all that well, but because I was told that’s where I was supposed to be. But it wasn’t. I don’t read those journals. I can’t really afford to, nor inclined to. And I’m not sure I want to spend so much time combing through the drek to uncover the good stuff. I've gleaned that the publish-or-perish climate leads to alot of mediocrity and cronyism to sustain itself. Sort of like snake eating itself thing. I wonder how many people DO read them, regularly, religiously, not because they’re trying to get published but because they enjoy it. Eventually all those poems I submitted to those places wound up online (or in other, cool, indie publications, which I’ll touch on in a second). And I felt stupid for not having sent them to the editors who would have appreciated them first, the people who I’ve gotten a lot of support and encouragement from. Not some cool ivory tower bitch whose completely indifferent to my existence, just because that was what I was supposed to do. Fuck it.

And maybe this isn’t a print vs. online discussion at all, since in the last few years I’ve stumbled across a host of awesome, non-university tied/funded, publications--many of which can be found over there in the sidebar, and many of which I’m stoked to have work in, and oddly seem to be read by more people than the heavyweights. It might be just a blog thing..but that‘s cool. I definitely hear more people talking about the latest issue of The Tiny or Pebble Lake Review (I’m totally biased since I have poems forthcoming in both) than I ever do the so-called biggies. I wish there were more of these sorts of journals to satisfy my occasional lust for paper over pixels…

Then there’s the web.., where there’s a lot of good stuff being published, and better yet, it’s free, accessible, like a broadside handed out on every corner, everywhere in the world. I’m thinking especially as I start sending out all this newer work, the girl show poems mostly, I’m sticking to the web, mostly with a few exceptions of little mag print faves. But I’m not going to be clamoring for that bottom rung on the level to poetry stardom, whatever that is, if it exists at all. What matter is finding readers, and I really don’t think mine are there anywhere on that ladder.

When I used to publish more on the web, when that was pretty much the ONLY place I published since I couldn’t afford all those SASE’s , people were so nice. You’d get a lot of support for your work from editors, and even occasional fan mail. A certain instantaneousness of response. I myself am much quicker to offer feedback with an e-mail link than having to write a letter, address it, stamp it, etc. The web poetry world seemed smaller, though ironically, it was much bigger. I had a feeling people were reading my work, responding to it. (Maybe it was all in my head..) I like that. That’s what keeps me working--not sending things off into the abyss to maybe have them shoved into an SASE two years later with a generic “sorry“, when the poems so old and you've moved on to something else.



Thursday, September 07, 2006

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Yay! I just got the first proofs for the fever almanac from Ghost Road and the cover design. Holy hell, everything looks gorgeous. 70 pages full of poemy goodness. Plan to spend some time tonight on the circ desk combing through.

Monday, September 04, 2006


This above series is not yet available at etsy just yet, since they'll be in the fall Art of the Library Extravaganza (coming to, or just outside, a bathroom near you). There are two new pieces, however, over in the dgp studio in the same vein. once again, I'm working in conjunction with the newly revived instabilities manuscript (thanks to the phobia poems), letting the poems manifest themselves visually--not exactly literally, yet thematically. Sometimes it helps me get out of rough spots in figuring out where I want to go.

back to school

When I was ten and going into the fifth grade, we moved out to where my parents lived now and were living in a pick-up camper (sans pickup) while they built our house from scratch (we had stored all of our stuff in various places, and used the shower/facilities at my aunts house next door.)....My parents didn't close on the house til well into September, but the Rockford teachers strike had delayed the start of school by several weeks and we didn't have to get ready for that first day in those tight confines. But there we were, our clothes procured from the K-mart layaway, school supplies bought, raring to go..

I'm always way to excited by back to school sales, clothes, and supplies (I just recently bought a whole pack of Strawberry Shortcake ones just for nostalgia's sake--I don't really use pencils to write at all..). That feeling of trepidation, and possibility, of newness. New clothes. New shoes. Shiny new virginal notebooks and backpacks. Those hefty textbooks they handed out, their slightly glossy pages. The excitement of first year we were allowed to use ink. I miss being a kid sometimes so much it make my chest hurt. Not that I've given up my back to school pleasures entirely. I plan to go shoe shopping this week. I need a new sketchbook/notebook for classes (which actually start this week, though since both of mine are on Monday I have to wait). I've traded thick text books in favor of slim poetry volumes. Trapper Keepers in favor of loose files full of manuscripts and poems. Mechanical pencils for my Pilot G-2's.

Maybe I'll start something wonderfully new this week. Write a new poem, start a new project. Go somewhere I've never been. One day, instead of defaulting to Subway, take a smashed pb&j sandwhich in a rumpled paper bag. A thermos of chocolate milk. A shiny apple.
I’ve been giving a little thought to this and this, and the intro that spawned it. Now I have a bad reaction to the mention of Billy Collins anyhow (akin to hives)--so much bland, pre-packaged, quasi-humorous, vanilla ness. So I’m not sure I’m all that eager to purchase this year’s BAP, filled with the sort of stuff he seems to like.

But when I read his little break down of what’s good poetry to what’s crap, it made me snort, considering my ratio, at least among what’s typically published in the sorts of journals mined for BAP, would be more like 50/50, the bad fifty definitely being Collins and all the poets who write just like him. Admittedly, I’m not a real big fan of most of the work in the bigger, more popular, mostly academic journals precisely for their publishing poets like Collins. Yes, there are good poets in those journals, poets whose work is exciting, surprising, dynamic, but I have a hard time finding them amidst the sea of mediocrity, and usually only find them when I know to go looking. But I’m also aware that my qualifications for poetry to be good poetry are different from other peoples. I can respect that it IS subjective to a degree (mind you the “to a degree” part.) The blandness of language, the lack of imagery, texture, innovation, the predictable “I came, I saw, I wrote about it” attitude in a Collins-like poem turns me off. Maybe another reader wouldn’t be, depending on your tastes. (Though I‘d argue I have better taste..). When I say “This is crap” I mean of course, you’re free to argue why it’s not. It’s all sort of grey where the line is though, and on occasion I’ve found something to like in poets I might not think I would, and in work that I might readily dismiss. And there’s a large continuum between the truly awesome work, the begrudgingly okay, and really bad, terrible, never should have hit the page stuff.

So to dismiss that much poetry, standing on such shaky ground oneself, makes me revile Collins even more. Granted, he hints at the subjectivity of the process, later on (although I do wonder how much Lehman pulls the strings), but I assume he’s talking about the 17%--what he chose from that. And the argument is moot anyway, considering what’s published in those sorts of journals is probably about 20% of the poetry output of serious working poets, 2% the output of all poetry (the good the bad the ugly) written everywhere. Which leaves out A LOT of work, especially in more indie and online journals. But then since this poetry probably isn’t anything like his own (THANK GOD), it would no doubt be lumped in that other 83% .One thing I liked about Hejinian’s BAP a couple years ago, was it’s mining into unfamiliar territory (albeit a rather aesthetically langpo limited, east coast sort of territory) I’ll bet BC doesn’t know fuck about the amount of good , great, even competent poetry published in any given year in literary periodicals.

Grrr..I’ll let up on the invective to say that I hate the haters. The people who continually bemoan the fact there’s too many writing program, too many poets, too many journals, too many voices. That everyone who writes poems like me is groundbreaking and all the rest of you suck. I’m thinking there aren’t enough journals, aren’t enough presses to gather all the good work. I’m thinking there can never be too much poetry happening. I’m thinking I have my preferences when it comes to the work I choose to value, my criteria, but they are just that. Preferences. And I vote with my readership, don‘t I, the books I buy, the journals I choose to purchase, subscribe to, and even submit to. And that doesn’t necessarily make me hesitant to place things in a ranking system,but to always question the motives behind ranking and dismissal. Who’s ranking and based on what? BC amazingly skirts the issue here--his real criteria, which makes me think he doesn’t really have any…which explains alot….

Sunday, September 03, 2006

oh, glorious three day weekend. And the weather has been gorgeous, clear and crisp, very fall-like. I'm trying not to care about winter one bit at this point, that bleakness registering somewhere near the back of my mind, but I plan (am determined)to enjoy the next couple months anyway... I spent the morning assembling the last of the second printing How to Study Birds, and tweaking the layout on the print annual, which I'd like to wrap up this week and get the contributors copies out before I'm buried in coursework. I did manage to respond to all the Alice submissions last week, so the issue should be out around the end of the month, as long as I can keep on schedule. Actually, my long Saturdays on the circ desk are good for getting stuff done online, so I'm not worried. I did decide to shut down submissions for awhile, since we have a heavy backlog of general work that's come in since the spring for the winter issue and getting more before then would just be entirely overwhelming.

Friday, September 01, 2006

wicked alice: the early years

In honor of wicked alice turning five, I thought I'd point you (well the six or so of you actually reading this) all in the direction of some damned fine poems we've published throughout the years, often my first intro to the poets we publish pretty regularly, or have published through dgp, some of who will also be gracing the pages of the anniversary issue. Shann's comments below led me back to her poem, one of the first we published. And there's Rebecca in the second issue. In others that first year, Taylor Graham, whose chap we published in 2005, ditto Christine. Also a fiction piece by Adrianne Marcus, author of the first dgp book we published.

Check out those mad design skills. That first year, I didn't really vary beyond angelfire's basic template. With their basic editor you just plugged the info in. I remember being amazed when I figured out how to make the text italicized. I SO had no clue what I was doing. Though I was definitely loving the pre-raphaelites in those days.. We were also publishing alot of other things, since we didn't become a solely poetry zine until a couple years later. I reviewed alot of fiction back when I had the luxury to read alot for fun (pre MFA days), and we published essays and fiction, but I always wound up scraping to find stuff from others and to write reviews half-assed of my own. And there was lots of poetry coming in, so I just gave over to it eventually. I also have trouble reading really long stories on the web, so it was even harder to make sure they were edited and formatted properly, which took longer than doing just poems. Thus, we changed the format completely by the third year.

coming soon, year #2....