Tag: poetry

The Gleaming Crest by Brandon Adamson – Chapbook Review

by Ben Arzate Arizona poet Brandon Adamson is the author three prior poetry collections. The Gleaming Crest is his fourth, though technically his first as it’s a re-release of a handmade chapbook created in 1995 when Adamson was still in high school. It’s even designed to resemble the original chapbook with its typewriter font and

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India LaPlace’s Sad Discoveries: A Review

Sad Discoveries Good poetry, especially in the small press world, is difficult to come by. I don’t intend this as an attack on small presses in any way; take it as a testimony to the difficulty of writing poetry that truly resonates with readers. Poetry requires more than mere images. The image, after all, doesn’t

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Horror Sleaze Trash: An Interview with India LaPlace

I recently met India online, seeing that we have several mutual FB friends in the creative arts circles and that she’s local to the SLC area. When I noticed that she’s an associate editor for Horror Sleaze Trash, I got all sorts of excited to discover the art/lit zine (that has been and always will

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There is Movement of the Mind, And There is Sound, by Joseph Bouthiette Jr.

THERE IS MOVEMENT OF THE MIND, AND THERE IS SOUND For Aleathia Drehmer EXHIBIT A: In Face [Self, Fulfilling] In Ass I. Cursory_55”to work”// Scene: Defeat The protagonist is described by means of the film, the moon, and the calls he wishes to cross the border. As I understand it, besides the eyes of his

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Anguish [ by Phoenix

We’re happy to welcome Phoenix back for another SMM appearance! Those of you who have followed us for a while might recognize Phoenix from our interview with him, his interview with me, and his essay on anarchy. If none of these sound familiar to you, feel encouraged to check out the links above. Today’s poem,

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Hidden Chasms, Part One

they left cuts Iittle penknife incisions in the ligature seeming harmless innocent cachinnate fricatives awaken us at night the tiny hours leak oxygen as the chasm sours your eyes glass over coffee glass eyes sunk into oceans solid and immune to pressure the lugubrious rest cure nourishes the sandstone where flowers bloom we dig since

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