New from Lame House Press: Hazel McClure's Nothing Moving
"How we come to see ourselves. Glass, ice, sun, lines of water on a steamed-over window. 'The child sees a story in the lines, sings this word, that name.' How we come to say ourselves and where we are. 'Noun echoes pine.' The chest and the heart inside it, 'chest cracks open / as a seed.' I recognize home in this book of poems: the comings and goings of meaning (as if through the window that we keep returning to), the constant translation of body to spirit to world to body to word. The person speaking is someone I believe. And 'she looks straight / into the camera / as if she knows me'. " --Kate Greenstreet
Send a check for $5.00 (before June 15, or check back for updated address after that point) to:
293 Hooper St. #11
Brooklyn, NY 11211
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