1. THE NOTORIOUS B.L.A.S.K.Y

    by Danielle Lea

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    Cutie patootie Dorothea Lasky came to Baton Rouge, Louisiana, for the 2014 Delta Mouth Literary Festival. She was citrus bangles and gemstone clank, reading from Thunderbird, her 2012 poetry collection from Wave Books. Lasky was a high pitch sherberting into the microphone “I Like Weird Ass Hippies” ! “O!” I thought. Oh…Dorothea Lasky’s wonderful. Her presence commands. She had me. Paintings on Baton Rouge Gallery Walls laughed too. Lasky’s work is fresh, crispy, airy, welcome & etc. I kept thinking iceberg lettuce, a lemon squeeze into the contemporary world of poetry. Dorothea Lasky got swag!

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    Big Poppa

    She notes Notorious B.I.G a pivotal influence: his clarity, precision, the sanding everyday grit into beauty. Biggie Smalls is one of her desert-island-disk artists. Me, I used to rap “Juicy” daily as a girl and got Ready to Die memorized. Lasky talked the Notorious into interviews and articles with Poetry Society of America and the Poetry Foundation. She explores how power works in a poem. Naturally, wouldn’t an affinity for hip hop follow? It’s a music all bold & boast:

    I like weird ass hippies

    And men with hairy backs

    And small green animals

    And organic milk

    And chickens that hatch

    It’s about empowerment:

     

    I like weird ass stuff

    I like your weird ass spirit stick… .

    I like when you rub sage on my door

    I like the lamb’s blood you throw on my face

        

    It’s about exaltation:

    I like cursing out an enemy… .

    Soaking their baby tooth in oil

    Lighting it on fire with a tiny plastic horse

    I like running through the fields of green

    I am so caught up in flowers and fruit

    I like shampooing my body

    It’s about aggression:

     

    And tell me I’m a man

    I am a fucking man

    A weird ass fucking man

     

    It’s about exuberance, about consciousness, about the hyper-electric ability to liberate:

      

    So get your cut-up heart away from

    What you think you know

    You know, we are all going away from here

    At least have some human patience

    For what lies on the other side

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     Luciana Rondolini’s Bedazzled Banana

    In a fantastic 2009 Jacket2 review, Robert Dewurst dubbed Dorothea as “radically literal,” and: 

    Besides Biggie, I’m unaware of any writer who has inhabited Charles Olson’s performative kinetics of “projective verse” to such an embodied extreme as she has. In high school, Lasky competed the 3,200-meter long-distance run for her outdoor track team, and when she read in Buffalo last February she had to pause between verses of shouting AWE, AWE AND LOVE to ask a girl in the audience for a Gatorade.

    Somewhere along the line, Dorothea Lasky grew into Mountain Dew. Robert Dewust continues:

    Maggie Nelson has recently written that Eileen Myles’s naked incorporation of private and metabolically charged lyric disclosures into scenes of live performance has worked to “transform the boundaries of what kinds of claims on public space a female poet can make.” When Lasky deadpans loud lines… .  she further extends this same stage into what Thom Donovan has called a form of “biopolitical theater.” Within it, the poet’s startling voice creates an affective, material immediacy between herself and the audience that riskily opens the room up to an unprecedented sort of anti-identitarian, emotional access to her writing.

    Apologies, I almost re-essayed the whole essay. Thank you for coming to Baton Rouge, Dorothea Lasky! What joy. May your spinal fluid keep glittering, your lungs confetti’ing. Bold on~

    I give up / But it is a sweet giving up / Knowing instead I will be the best poet that has ever lived / While all those people in love / Will simply die in one another’s arms / While I will die in the world’s arms.

     Dorothea Lasky

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                       Photo courtesy of BOMB magazine

     

    Dorothea Lasky’s collections include AWE (2007, Wave Books), Black Life, (2010, Wave Books), Thunderbird (2012, Wave Books) and Rome (Liveright, 2014 forthcoming).

     

     

     

     

  2. Suc-suc-suc-suc-suc-suc-cess: NDR THANKS DELTA MOUTH!

    Whew.  Mid-week and we’re just now blinking in the sunlight, emerging from a long, glorious weekend of readings, courtesy of the Delta Mouth Literary Festival. 

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    I put on a headscarf this morning, took it off, then put it on again, trying to decide if I looked like the kind of weird ass hippie that Dorothea Lasky likes.  I dreamt about rabbits with human faces and heart shaped eyeballs (thanks, Donald Dunbar). I opened the curtains and practiced dancing like Irakli Kakabadze.

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    Which is all to say that this was the best literary festival I’ve ever attended, and probably the best one ever put on in the history of the world. 

    Over the next few days, NDR staff is going to be offering a recap of the festival, so stay tuned for photos and tributes to come!  But first, we wanted to extend our heart-shaped-eyeball thanks to all of the wonderful writers who came here to share their work, and to Anna Wilson and her coordinating team. 

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    THANKS DELTA MOUTH!  

     

  3. Morbid Curiosities by Rebecca Meacham, now published by NDR

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    Our chapbook contest winner, Rebecca Meacham, answers some questions about her new chapbook, Morbid Curiosities, just published by New Delta Review in a limited-print run.

    NDR: In Morbid Curiosities you work a lot from artifact, including news clippings, already published books, objects, and even imagined artifacts, as in your last series. What initially drew you to explore these items more deeply?

    RM: This book of tiny stories began because I was trying to write one giant, epic story—a novel on the 1871 Peshtigo, Wisconsin fire. This fire occurred the same night as the Great Chicago fire, but in Wisconsin, it killed thousands of people and almost no one knows about it. So I was researching historical artifacts: census records, archival telegraphs, newspaper accounts, Masters’ theses on burnt crockery. It was a wholly morbid curiosity. At the same time, I was struggling with how to contain the scope of such loss, and to render the daily life of characters in a very different era. I got stuck a lot.

    In rebellion, I began writing these weird little stories that were sometimes funny, sometimes sad, and usually based on a historical item I’d uncovered. A diversion into Victorian postmortem photography led to the first piece for the book, “Family Portrait.” Then, some gossip about a dead artist and a grudgingly-made face mask led to the other pieces in that triptych, which all center on dead body as a kind of canvas for art. Along the way, I found an 1874 primer and was struck by the poetry of its pages. At the time, I was taking a course in Menominee Indian language, a dying language (there are maybe 15 fluent speakers today). So, when I wondered, “Who might be using this primer?”, I began to hear girls at an Indian boarding school, taking revenge against their schoolmaster, using a tool of their confinement— English lessons— to tell all.

    Sometimes I followed a lark— like a headline about Mitt Romney, or a newspaper story about murdered seals, or a Weather Channel special on a single tornado. (I could hear tornado jealousy: A whole show around one tornado? How does that tornado get its own show?) Sometimes, the inspiration was a real-life tragedy, like Princess Alexandria of Bavaria, who suffered the delusion she’d swallowed a grand glass piano, or the Williamson family, who are actually main characters in my Peshtigo novel.

    At some point during that year of writing and rebelling from my novel, I realized that I had a number of flash fictions about a public exhibit, or a public figure, or public space inscribed with private loss, like the suitcases from the Willard Asylum photographed by Jon Crispin. So I put the novel down and wrote flash fiction until I had a book.

    NDR: Where does this collection fit in your writing up until now? 

    RM: I never really wrote flash fiction before 2012. My first book, Let’s Do, is a collection of unrelated, traditional-length, epiphany-driven, contemporary short stories. So Morbid Curiosities is a new form for me: a themed collection of stories, set between 1848 and 2032, and each under 1000 words. You’re also seeing my first attempts at the first person collective voice, and my first immersions in historical setting, like Dreamland in Coney Island in 1904 or a room service menu in 1958.

    Also, the flash fiction form allowed me to play with vantage point and language in a way that was fun and slightly manic. I kept adding ridiculous constraints, as in “Exercises for Printing and Writing”— writing a last paragraph that featured at least one “tch” word in every sentence. Or moving time backwards to tell the story of the Peshtigo fire, as in “Mrs. Williamson Winds the Watch,” in just 500 words.

    That said, all of my fiction usually examines dark subjects. I warn readers that my first book has a steep drop-off in happiness right about the mid-point; beware!

    NDR: What is the type of instruction you most repeat to your students at University of Wisconsin - Green Bay?

    RM: I think I’m hardest on the kind of student I used to be: someone playing it safe with plot (or ignoring it altogether), writing in her comfort zone, which, in my case, was always language and lots of self-admiring sentences. This semester, my advanced fiction workshop is subtitled WORKSHOP OF FIRE!!!! (yes, 4 exclamation points), and I’m asking students to light the hoop of their writing on fire, to be daring in premise and voice and style, to do things they’ve never tried before. Lorrie Moore once said, “Write something you wouldn’t show your mother.” I say this all the time. My workshop students come to class with scissors and redaction pens.

    You can find Morbid Curiosities available for purchase here.  

    Rebecca Meacham’s first story collection, Let’s Do, was published in 2004 as the winner of UNT Press’s Katherine Anne Porter Prize in Fiction, and the book was a Barnes & Noble “Discover Great New Writers” program selection. Her fiction has appeared in Michigan Quarterly Review, Indiana Review, West Branch, Necessary Fiction, Paper Darts, Wigleaf, Hobart, and other journals, and she’s currently a blogger for Ploughshares. Born and educated in Ohio, Rebecca earned a B.A. from Miami University, an M.F.A. from Bowling Green State University, and a Ph.D. in English and Comparative Literature from the University of Cincinnati.  An associate professor of English and Humanistic Studies, Rebecca directs the creative writing program at the University of Wisconsin–Green Bay. 

     

  4. NDR 2013-14 Chapbook Contest Winner

    NDR is ecstatic to announce the winner of our chapbook contest, chosen by Mark Yakich, writer and professor of English at Loyola University New Orleans. 

    The winner is Rebecca Meacham for her chapbook “Morbid Curiosities.”

    Mark Yakich has the following to say about Rebecca’s collection:

    Although “Morbid Curiosities” is bookended by the 19th and 21st Centuries, the collection exhibits the best of 20th Century playfulness in form — beginning in Stein-like exuberance for the stuff of language and finishing in Barthleme-like wonder amid banality. What I glean most of all here is that while many of us live lives of intentional or unintentional irony, it is death that best “enfold[s] the layers of irony” we’ve lived. As at the end of the story “Mrs. Williamson Winds the Watch,” we view death “surprised” and something to “back away” from, but also we often find ourselves “smiling” to endure morbidity: “giddy as a girl carrying the sun in her pocket, poised on the brink of radiance.”

    About Rebecca: Her debut short story collection, Let’s Do, was published in 2004 as the winner of UNT Press’s Katherine Anne Porter Prize in Fiction, and the book was a Barnes & Noble “Discover Great New Writers” program selection. Her fiction has appeared or is forthcoming in Michigan Quarterly Review, Indiana Review, Necessary Fiction, Paper Darts, Sundog Lit, Wigleaf, Hobart, and other journals. Currently, she directs the creative writing program at the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay, and she blogs for Ploughshares.

    Rebecca’s book will be forthcoming in February 2014 and available for sale at AWP in Seattle, as well as online at http://ndrmag.org/donate/

    We’d like to acknowledge our other finalists, each of whose work was outstanding.

    Derek Graff, “What the Dying Man Asked Me”
    Virginia Konchan, “A is for Amoeba”
    Michael Leong, “FRUITS AND FLOWERS AND ANIMALS AND SEAS AND LANDS DO OPEN”
    Sheila McMullin, “Like Water”
    Susan Rukeyser, “If Everything Was Different”

    If you missed our last issue (shame on you, it’s free and awesome), read more here: http://ndrmag.org/

     

  5. NDR 4.1 Released!

    It’s here!  NDR’s winter issue has arrived, and it’s spectacular.  Brimming with the imaginative, the experimental and the surreal and grounded in Noritaka Minami’s photographs of a building on the brink of destruction, NDR issue 4.1 is a beautiful collaboration of some wonderful writers.  We invite you to see for yourselves:  http://ndrmag.org/

     

  6. “L’union Libre,” is a French Poem to be Green Eggs and Ham With

    In these final days of our chapbook contest, our Poetry Editor Danielle Lea Buchanan wanted to celebrate her all-time favorite mind-bending poetry to the tune of Dr. Seuss…

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    It’s a poem by the reputed father of Surrealism,

    who frequently [dressed] entirely in green, [smoked] a green pipe, [drank] a green liqueur and [had] a sound of knowledge of Freudian psychology.” – Time Magazine

                        &

    “… never wanted to be seen without an erection… ” –Mary Ann Caws

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    He’s Andre Breton.

    He is my Doctor, my Dr. Seuss. “L’union Libre,” or “Free Union,” or “Freedom of Love,” is why I started writing. It’s why sometimes I stop. It’s why go again. I read “L’union Libre” originally in Mary Ann Caws gathered collection entitled “Surrealist Love Poems.”

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    I’ve bought the book 27 times. I’ve knotted the book in white rope and send it Priority in a box of salted pistachios. It’s been USPS blacklisted, caught wrapped in cheesecloth in a Media Mail box of wine glasses, tampons, and olive forks. “L’union Libre,” has been here: Iowa, China, Providence, Vietnam, Spain, Africa. I’ve gave it away more times than I owned it.

    Here, translated from the French by Edouard Rodti is:

    Freedom of Love

    My wife with the hair of a wood fire

    With the thoughts of heat lightning

    With the waist of an hourglass

    With the waist of an otter in the teeth of a tiger

    My wife with the lips of a cockade and of a bunch of stars of the last magnitude

    With the teeth of tracks of white mice on the white earth

    With the tongue of rubbed amber and glass

    My wife with the tongue of a stabbed host

    With the tongue of a doll that opens and closes its eyes

    With the tongue of an unbelievable stone

    My wife with the eyelashes of strokes of a child’s writing

    With brows of the edge of a swallow’s nest

    My wife with the brow of slates of a hothouse roof

    And of steam on the panes

    My wife with shoulders of champagne

    And of a fountain with dolphin-heads beneath the ice

    My wife with wrists of matches

    My wife with fingers of luck and ace of hearts

    With fingers of mown hay

    My wife with armpits of marten and of beechnut

    And of Midsummer Night

    Of privet and of an angelfish nest

    With arms of seafoam and of riverlocks

    And of a mingling of the wheat and the mill

    My wife with legs of flares

    With the movements of clockwork and despair

    My wife with calves of eldertree pith

    My wife with feet of initials

    With feet of rings of keys and Java sparrows drinking

    My wife with a neck of unpearled barley

    My wife with a throat of the valley of gold

    Of a tryst in the very bed of the torrent

    With breasts of night

    My wife with breasts of a marine molehill

    My wife with breasts of the ruby’s crucible

    With breasts of the rose’s spectre beneath the dew

    My wife with the belly of an unfolding of the fan of days

    With the belly of a gigantic claw

    My wife with the back of a bird fleeing vertically

    With a back of quicksilver

    With a back of light

    With a nape of rolled stone and wet chalk

    And of the drop of a glass where one has just been drinking

    My wife with hips of a skiff

    With hips of a chandelier and of arrow-feathers

    And of shafts of white peacock plumes

    Of an insensible pendulum

    My wife with buttocks of sandstone and asbestos

    My wife with buttocks of swans’ backs

    My wife with buttocks of spring

    With the sex of an iris

    My wife with the sex of a mining-placer and of a platypus

    My wife with a sex of seaweed and ancient sweetmeat

    My wife with a sex of mirror

    My wife with eyes full of tears

    With eyes of purple panoply and of a magnetic needle

    My wife with savanna eyes

    My wife with eyes of water to he drunk in prison

    My wife with eyes of wood always under the axe

    My wife with eyes of water-level of level of air earth and fire

    I’ve handwritten “L’union Libre,” and put it under pillows. Blank ink stained many a white cotton case.  I’ve folded it in pockets. I’ve zipped, licked, and stamped. I’ve lost it in tumble dry. I’ve found it dead shut with mustard. I’ve wadded it and thrown it from Cadillac Mountain. “L’union Libre,” has been stabbed with silver tacks. It’s been magnetted to a refrigerator door. I’ve seen “L’union Libre” before I’ve seen myself— taped to the glass of many mirrors. Do I like it? Here or there? Yes. In a house? Yes. With a mouse? Yes. In a box? With a fox? Yes. In a tree? Yes. It lets me be. In the dark? In the rain? On a train? With a goat? On a boat? Yes. Yes. Yes!

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    The poetic blason  form originated in 16th century France. It’s an obsessive, hyperbolic glorification (disputable) of the female body. It’s desire that dissects. The observer’s eyes are anatomical guillotines that butcher the bodies of our lover’s up…until they juice down an alabaster pedestal. Get convulsive. Get surreal.    

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    My wish is that you will be loved to the point of madness.”—Andre Breton

    Photographs: 

    1. Meret Oppenheim, Le Déjeuner en fourrure, 1936

    2. Man Ray Portrait

    3. Surrealist Love Poems. Edited by Mary Ann Caws

    4. Union Libre (poem by André Breton embossed in Braille on a photograph). Leon Ferrari, 2004

    5.  Egg Revolving Against Grey Background in Slow Motion.

     

  7. Great News and One Week Left for Chapbook Contest

    We’re pleased to report that Kit Frick has published her chapbook, Kill Your Darlings, Clementine, with Rye House Press. Kill Your Darlings, Clementine was a finalist for our chapbook contest last year, and we were thrilled to publish five poems from the collection in our last issue.  

    Which brings us to our next piece of news: there is ONE WEEK left to submit to this year’s chapbook contest, which will be judged by the acclaimed poet and novelist Mark Yakich.  Submit your brilliant, inventive, moving and mind-bending manuscripts of unpublished poetry, fiction, or hybrid work before December 2nd! 

     

  8. New Delta Review Announces the Winners and Finalists of Its Inaugural Ryan R. Gibbs Photography Prize

    by Laura Theobald, Art Editor

    New Delta Review has officially wrapped up its first annual Ryan R. Gibbs Photography Prize. Our gracious judge, Jeff Rich, photographer and recipient of the 2010 Critical Mass Book Award for his project “Watershed: A Survey of The French Broad River Basin,” selected from among five distinctive finalists to award the prize, which includes $500 and publication in our forthcoming winter issue. Because of the quality of the entries, it was a challenge for the three of us (Editor in-Chief Alyson Pomerantz, Art Editor Emily Nemens, and myself) to decide on five finalists to forward to Rich, but, for me, what was perhaps even more difficult was relinquishing control over “the final say,” even to a judge as distinguished and experienced as Rich. The truth is, any one of our finalists would have made for a wonderful cover to grace our hard-earned, forthcoming issue, but, of course, there could only be one winner.

    WINNER:

    Dear readers: please join us in congratulating NDR’s first ever winner of the Ryan R. Gibbs Photography Award: Noritaka Minami.

    Minami is a Teaching Assistant in Photography at the Department of Visual and Environmental Studies at Harvard University. Since 2010 he has been investigating the Nakagin Capsule Tower (built in 1972), an experimental building in Tokyo designed by the architect Kisho Kurokawa (1934 -2007). 

    Minami’s unique images navigate Tokyo’s deteriorating experimental building—the world’s first ever apartment complex with removable units—by utilizing a repeating single point of view of the interiors of these units, providing not only an intimate portrayal of the private spaces of the building’s interior, but a surreal series of interpretations of the architect’s vision. Titled simply “1972,” the collection documents the absence of the tenants themselves, relieved somewhat by the individuality of the spaces; the effect is that of a peaceful foreshadowing of the structure’s imminent ruin. But what else does the constructed conglomerate of Minaimi’s images—uniform, yet distinct; small, but contained; beautiful and oddly desolate—have to reveal about its inhabitants, about Japanese culture, and about the state of humanity? 

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    Images from the series “1972,” by NDR’s Ryan R. Gibbs Photography Prize Winner, Noritaka Minami

    FINALISTS

    Our first finalist, Lynné Bowman, presents us with a series titled “Self Portrait Origami Tessellations”: a unique and stunning conceptual collection of the artist’s image. Exploring the idea of “photograph print as object,” these distorted and meticulously arranged images provide a three-dimensional portrait of the artist that is at once tonally soothing and infused with anxiety. Bowman is a Photography MFA student at the University of North Texas. 

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    From the series “Self Portrait Origami Tessellations,” by Lynné Bowman

    John Edmonds’s “IMMACULATE” is a vivid and intimate series of male portraits. They represent a statement, Edmonds says, on “the external and internal violence that is implicated through the bodies of men on the margins of society.” These rich images establish Edmonds’s concerns with vibrancy, contrast, sexuality, and an intellectual sensitivity to the male form. Edmonds is a fine art photographer currently living in Washington D.C. In 2013, he founded ABOUT-FACE, a blog featuring work by early, emerging, and mid-career artists of all disciplines, focused in the field of portraiture.

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    From the series “IMMACULATE,” by John Edmonds

    Donna Cooper Hurt’s “River Place” is an enigmatic photo essay centered on the artist and her space. Specifically, Hurt says, the work focuses on “a generational family farm that was bequeathed to me upon an aunt’s death. The house and the landscape around it become a theatrical performance space for my explorations into place, time, and memory.” The striking kinetic movement of the subject “through” these photographs contrasts with the sense of complete stillness of the space around her, creating an image of frantically colliding energies—and a sense of the artist as the ghost of her own images. Hurt graduated from The School of the Art Institute, and has exhibited at the Chicago Cultural Center, The New Orleans Museum of Art, and the Fac Modern in Colorado. 

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    “Santa,” from the series “River Place,” by Donna Cooper Hurt

    Our final finalist, Joe Johnson, presents another series of stunningly contrasting images—this time focusing on the emotional potential of landscape photography. Titled “Local Weather,” these images deal with the powerful and oppositional forces of light and dark—each handled with the same deft sense of vision and composition. Johnson has been reviewed and/or published in Art in America, The New York Times, and The Boston Globe, among others. He currently serves as the head of the art photography program at the University of Missouri.  

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    “Tree in Snow,” from the series “Local Weather,” by Joe Johnson

    Congratulations again to our winner and finalists! We’re excited to end our first Photography Prize on such a high note, and are hoping to see an even bigger return next year. Follow us on Facebook or Twitter to get updates about our future contests and prizes. And best of luck! 

    Also, more about our judge, Jeff Rich, here: http://www.jeffreyrich.com/

     

  9. Winner of Ryan R. Gibbs Award for Short Fiction

    NDR is pleased to announce the winner of our first annual Ryan R. Gibbs Award for Short Fiction. This year’s winner, chosen by Pia Z. Ehrhardt, is Michael Alessi, for “Ocean View.” He will receive a $500 honorarium and publication in our winter issue, which will be live in two weeks!

    We also want to announce the other finalists:

    • “The Woman Next Door” by Laurie Doyle
    • “Childhood Home, Four Ways” by JoeAnn Hart
    • “Emma, Made of Skin” by Alisha Karabinus

    Thank you all for making this contest a success—we enjoyed reading all entries!

    Please check back next fall if short fiction is your thing.

     

  10. “Reaching Groovy, Reaching High”: Quick Glances at Two Poetry Magazines

    We asked our editors to tell us about what they read when they’re not reading NDR submissions.  Today, Assistant POETRY Editor, Anthony Ramstetter, Jr., writes on two of his favorite Poetry Publications:

    For your most exquisite reading pleasure, I have chosen to investigate two big poetry publications: a really groovy magazine I enjoy (Shampoo) as well as an older, elite poetry publication (American Poetry Review), both of which publish the “best of the best.”  I chose these two publications collectively because I wanted to engage with two different kinds of “reaching.” First, I enjoy reading Shampoo, they’re publishing groovy poetry. They are, in short, awesome. Alternatively, the American Poetry Review is this humungous, elite publication that often includes a wide range of poetry practitioners as well as solid book reviews that fit my principles, too. Thus, this idea I have of “reaching groovy” and “reaching high”! Okay, I admit, awkward. But, my hope is that this brief range of two very different poetry publications will benefit you in some small way and perhaps give you a solid albeit much-too-quick snapshot to a little of what’s out there for poets. Okay, onward and upward!

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    Firstly, Shampoo is an online periodical based in California, with Del Ray Cross as Editor since 2000. It is published quarterly and is only available online, and has published brand new names as well as well-established poets such as Rae Armantrout, Ron Silliman, and CA Conrad. In essence, its utmost goal is to create a community between well-established poets as well as providing a voice to brand-new names who have never been published. The publication’s mission is to publish quirky poems that dabble in nonliterary structuring by a mix of poets that need not always be “well-established” in their art (that is, well-known by several books/major publications). The type of writing published includes allegorical demotic language of superb quality, generally about a page long. The website’s simplicity (@ www.shampoopoetry.com) and its ease of function allow for its contents of the publication, judging from its website, catch the eye immediately. Now on its 40th issue, this one won’t be leaving us anytime soon, ladies and gents.

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    The American Poetry Review (found @ www.aprweb.org) was founded by Sidney H. Berg (1909-1973) and currently edited by Stephen Berg, David Bonanno, and Elizabeth Scanlon. It is published bimonthly by World Poetry, Inc., a non-profit organization. The publication is, conveniently, also available for purchase online. Bonus! According to the American Poetry Review’s website, the mission of the publication is “dedicated to reaching a worldwide audience with a diverse array of the best contemporary poetry and literary prose. APR also aims to expand the audience interested in poetry and literature, and to provide authors, especially poets, with a far-reaching forum in which to present their work.” Awesome! This publication tends to publish mostly well-known and established poetry writers and critics, simply based on the selectivity of the publication and its prestigious nature of the journal. It also publishes hybrid aesthetic poetry while providing vast scholarship on poetic practice—thus, a good mix of both creative and scholarly writing. Also, the articles tend to be 10-15 pages normal pages long on the regular. If you haven’t seen an issue of APR, the printing of the magazine is quite large!

    Luckily, each of these two publications makes an effort to include different avenues for poets—a plus in this highly diversified and competitive poetry world. A way in which Shampoo differs from APR is that it lacks many of the book-length contests and other resources for “developing poets”; the American Poetry Review, while incredibly selective, gives several contests for up-and-coming poets to gain professional capital. APR also includes interviews from poets included in their publication. Another bonus! However, this said, Shampoo is extremely relevant in their emphasis on fresh new voices mixing with well-established ones and, most importantly, on getting astonishing new poets established while generally facilitating love for poetry, which is really refreshing come to think of it!

    Overall, I am very happy to give a quick once-over of these journals and scope out a little more of the poetry scene. Do please check out Shampoo and American Poetry Review, and let me know if you find any groovy places I can reach for in the future!