I think I might have a new favorite online journal, and not just because they published a poem of mine. The journal is called LEVELER and the reason I fully dig what they’re doing is that they post one poem a week, with a very focused, critical extrapolation of the poem, which they call “levelheaded.” Not only do they bust the poems they publish open for viewing, but they also invite readers to respond, interact, and even, if desiring so, e-mail the writers to start a dialogue.
Anyway, they published an installment from my series Have the Hands Ask it Back this week and I am in awe of the grace and time they spent on writing about it. Enjoy the poem and the mini-essay here.
Three new poems published by Dewclaw here.
Additionally, more collaborative work with Thomas Cook and I is up at Horseless Review. It is a PDF file, so you have to open it to see the poems therein. Our work starts on page twenty, yet there is some incredible work there, from poets like these: Drew Kunz, Jess Wigent, Kate Schapira, Bruce Covey, Mairead Byrne, Thomas Cook & Tyler Flynn Dorholt, Ana Bozicevic, David Wirthlin, Amy King, Jack Boettcher, C.S. Carrier, Leigh Stein, Bronwen Tate, Nate Slawson, Susan Scarlata, Erik Anderson, Jennifer Denrow, Sandra Simonds, Justin Marks, Nate Pritts, Danielle Vogel, Matthew Henriksen, Allison Carter, Broc Rossell, Shawn Huelle, Adam Clay, Cynthia Arrieu-King, Tony Mancus, Karyna McGlynn, Shelly Taylor, Jeremy Czerw, Michael Rerick, Gary Sloboda, and Michael Robins.
Lastly, I want to send a solid nod to Copper Nickel, whose latest issue included a poem of mine entitled “Fellini Females.” Not only is Copper Nickel a monstrous gem, but it is clearly the completion of a magazine that many people spent both careful and intense minutes with. The layout is superb, the content is magnificent, and the editing arises out of finesse and acuity. Also, they send you FOUR copies AND a t-shirt if you are published in the issue. I like this because it forces the contributors to pass the issues along, as opposed to let one sit a shelf for thirty years before it goes into the used bin at a bookstore in Portland or wedges into the crevices of the Amtrak’s Empire Builder somewhere between Bismarck, North Dakota and the tip of Idaho. Also, deactivating Facebook feels very freeing.