Patricia Caspers has released her first full-length poetry collection, “In the Belly of the Albatross,” available from Glass Lyre Press. Patricia is the winner of the Nimrod /Hardman Pablo Neruda Prize for Poetry, the Mary Merritt Henry Prize for Poetry, and the Marion Hood Boess Haworth Prize for Poetry. She also has poetry and essays published widely in publications such as Anderbo, Ploughshares, PANK, Quiddity, Valparaiso, Generations, Dirtcakes, Cortland Review, r.k.v.r.y, and the Superstition Review.
“In these moving poems, many of them dramatic monologues spoken by women, Patricia Caspers conjures up the lives of historical individuals — a black slave midwife who [gives] ‘Justice her dowry,’ Amelia Earhart’s mother, waiting hopefully for her daughter’s return. And she reimagines the figures of Greek and Hebrew legend– the Gorgon who begs for ‘the gift of monstrosity’ the biblical Ruth, revealing a sensuality the Bible does not allow her … Caspers’ poems flourish and grow by turning themselves undaunted to the light.” — Chana Bloch
It is available for purchase from Glass Lyre’s Facebook page complete with free shipping if ordered before 11/14/15. It can also be bought from Amazon.
Each Tuesday we feature audio or video of an SR Contributor reading their work. Today we’re proud to feature a podcast by Muriel Nelson.
Muriel Nelson’s poetry collections are Part Song, winner of the Dorothy Brunsman Poetry Book Prize (Bear Star Press), and Most Wanted, winner of the ByLine Chapbook Award (ByLine Press). Nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize, her work has appeared in Barrow Street, Beloit Poetry Journal, Four Way Review, Hunger Mountain, The Massachusetts Review, National Poetry Review, The New Republic, Northwest Review, Ploughshares, and others, and on Verse Daily and Poetry Daily. She holds master’s degrees from the Warren Wilson MFA Program for Writers and the University of Illinois School of Music, and lives near Seattle, Washington.
Each Tuesday we feature audio or video of an SR Contributor reading their work. Today we’re proud to feature a podcast by poet Colleen Abel.
Colleen Abel is the author of Housewifery, a chapbook (dancing girl press, 2013). A former Diane Middlebrook Poetry Fellow, her work has appeared in numerous venues including The Southern Review, Mid-American Review, West Branch, The Journal, Cimarron Review, Verse Daily, Cincinnati Review, Ploughshares’ blog, and elsewhere. She holds a PhD from UW-Milwaukee and is currently the Joan Beebe Teaching Fellow at Warren Wilson College.
When her daughter was born eleven years ago, poet Julie Brooks Barbour wanted to know why everyone lied to her about motherhood. “People would say things like, ‘It goes so fast. Enjoy these moments,’ and I thought ‘Why is nobody telling the truth?’” Barbour began seeking out poetry by women who had children, but it was a challenge to find work that was honest and not intended for a laugh. Eventually, she stumbled upon Alice Notley’s, “A Baby Is Born Out of a White Owl’s Forehead,” originally published in 1972:
My baby is quiet and wise, but I’m
a trade name and I’m
rainwater on a piano . . . .
Finally, Barbour had found someone who told the truth. “It’s one of those poems every mother should read,” she said, “because this is chaos, and for the first two years there’s no me here.” Notley gave Barbour the glimmer of hope she needed to keep searching. She went on to discover other poets who wrote truthfully about motherhood, and about the body: Lucille Clifton, Eavan Boland, and Nikky Finney, for example, and then Barbour started writing her own poems about motherhood as identity. “I’ve always been interested in the feminine and the body,” she said, “but when my daughter was born she really brought it together for me.”
The poems from Barbour’s first chapbook, Come to MeandDrink (Finishing Line Press) address the ways a woman figures out who she is once she’s become a mother. “I kept asking: How do you keep in touch with yourself when you feel split apart, when you’re only allowed to show certain sides?” Barbour said. After reading her work, it’s clear that poetry became the perfect solder for the poet’s split selves.
The title poem from Come to Me and Drink, which will also appear in Small Chimes, a full-length manuscript due out from Aldrich Press later this year, is one example of that fine weld:
Come to Me and Drink
I know what she tastes: the ambrosia
that one morning fell in drops
from my breast to my arm. Tasting it,
my tongue recalled the white and yellow
blossoms of honeysuckle sprouting wild
along a field’s edge. Collecting vine upon vine,
I’d pluck each sweet blossom, pull out
each green stamen, careful not to lose
the drop of nectar at its tip, delighting
my tongue with the watery sugar.
Now the gods put me on the vine.
The buds of my nipples are pink
and dripping. An infant plucks me dry,
a sweet smell on her breath. This liquid:
a heal-all for a stomach-ache, a sedative
for the sleepless child making her bed
in the field’s tall grass. Her lips suckle in sleep.
Her tongue clicks in her mouth, an exercise.
The passing breeze my voice,
whispering around her ear. My arms vines
coaxing her to come to me and drink.
(Originally published at Inscape / Morehead State University)
The subject of women’s identity has certainly kept Barbour inspired, as she has a second chapbook, Earthlust (Finishing Line) also due out this year. Earthlust considers the ways girls are taught to be desirable, how a woman keeps her identity in the face of sexual desire, and the institution of marriage. Many of the poems are re-tellings of fairytales; for example, the series “The Woman without Hands” takes a fairytale character whose hands were cut off by her father, and imagines how she continues to accomplish necessary tasks, such as breastfeeding: “forehead to forehead, she nuzzles him like an animal. / She cannot sling him around to her back like a bear.”
“At one point in the fairytale, her husband gives her silver hands, and I thought, ‘Dear Lord, what is she going to do with those?” Barbour said. In the end, (spoiler alert) she removes the silver hands, her own hands grow back, and she uses them to discover her body. The series acts as a metaphor for the many ways women empower themselves despite being told what they are and are not allowed to do.
In fact Barbour has been told that she should write about other subjects, should write poems that are less soft-hearted. Her response: “Just because I’m writing about being a woman doesn’t mean I’m being sentimental,” she said. “It doesn’t mean that I’m sugar-coating it.”
Other poets who inspire Barbour include: Jeannine Hall Galey, Sally Rosen Kindred, Mary Biddinger, Marianne Boruch, Susan Grimm, and Mary McMyne.
“Hearing Voices – Women Versing Life” is a continuation of a series that originally appeared at Ploughshares.
Each Tuesday we feature audio or video of an SR Contributor reading their work. Today we’re proud to feature a podcast by Dick Allen.
Dick Allen received the 2013 New Criterion Poetry Prize for This Shadowy Place, his eighth poetry collection but his first in which are the poems all rhymed and metered. It will be published by St. Augustine’s in Fall, 2013. Allen is the current Connecticut State Poet Laureate, a position he inherited from John Hollander and holds until 2015. Allen’s new poems have recently appeared in or are forthcoming in Tricycle, Measure,The Hudson Review, Image, The Cape Rock, Able Muse.
Each Tuesday we feature audio or video of an SR Contributor reading their work. Today we’re proud to feature this podcast by Sarah Maclay.
Sarah Maclay is the author of Music for the Black Room, The White Bride and Whore (all, University of Tampa Press). Her poems and criticism have appeared in APR, Ploughshares, FIELD, The Writer’s Chronicle, Poetry Daily, VerseDaily, The Laurel Review, The Offending Adam, The Best American Erotic Poems: 1800 to the Present, Poetry International, where she serves as Book Review Editor, and elsewhere. The recipient of a Special Mention in Pushcart Prize XXXI, a 2009 Grisham fellowship, and the Tampa Review Prize for Poetry, she teaches at Loyola Marymount University and conducts workshops at The Ruskin Art Club and Beyond Baroque.
Each Tuesday we feature audio or video of an SR Contributor reading their work. Today we’re proud to feature a podcast by Carrie Moniz.
Carrie Moniz was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area. She earned a BA in English and an MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from San Diego State University. In 2009 she was awarded the Norma Sullivan Memorial Endowed Scholarship and the Dr. Minas Savvas Endowed Fellowship for creative writers. Carrie’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Ploughshares, Yellow Medicine Review, Third Wednesday,Suisun Valley Review, Corium Magazine, Web del Sol Review of Books, and numerous other journals and anthologies.She lives in San Diego, California and is a founding editor of The California Journal of Poetics.
You can read along with her poems in Issue 9 of Superstition Review.
Rebecca Byrkit with Cynthia Hogue, Jerry Riopelle, and AmeriCamera on September 23, 2012 by Letterpress Central.
Book release party, readings, musical performances
Doors open 4 p.m.
6185 W. Detroit Street
Chandler, Arizona 85226
Presented by Kariboux Ltd. and Letterpress Central
Rebecca Byrkit is the author of four books of poems, the most recent of which is WHOA (Kariboux Ltd., 2012). Becky teaches literature and creative writing in SLS and MLSt programs at ASU. Her work has appeared in Best American Poetry (Scribners), Ploughshares, Best of Exquisite Corpse, Black Warrior Review, Letters to the World (Red Hen Press), Fever Dreams: Poets of the Southwest (UA Press), Arizona Highways, and Rolling Stone. She is the current nonfiction faculty advisor for Superstition Review.
Cynthia Hogue holds the Maxine and Jonathan Marshall Chair in Modern and Contemporary Poetry at Arizona State University. She has published seven collections of poetry, most recently Or Consequence.
Jerry Riopelle is a songwriter and musician inducted in the Arizona Music Hall of Fame.
AmeriCamera (T.R. Hummer and Billy Cioffi), is a Grammy award-winning combo featuring “text-based poetry and music.”
Reception to follow readings and performances. All are welcome!
Behind every blog is a blogger. They are the unspoken authors of the internet that filter in a constant stream of news into your RSS Feed. As a Social Networking Coordinator for Superstition Review, Bri Perkins has learned first-hand just how challenging that job can be.
Working with a small team, Bri helps to maintain and write for the SR blog, Twitter, Facebook, and Google+, which can include everything from interviews with esteemed authors to email correspondence to creating the latest trending topic. A resident night-owl, Bri usually can be seen tweeting in the wee hours of the morning or slumped over a keyboard asleep.
Having never really experienced the editorial process and the inner workings of a publication, Perkins applied to Superstition Review in hopes of getting hands-on experience in the literary world. Since then, her taste and exposure to art, literature, and writing has grown exponentially. Now a fan of Tin House and Ploughshares (and of course SR), she has developed a love of fiction and short stories. Her favorite readings range all the way from J.K. Rowling to Flannery O’Connor to the labels on shampoo bottles.
Bri is quickly approaching the finish-line of her undergraduate degree at ASU. Studying the unique combination of English and Psychology, she found she had a passion for the anatomy and physiology of the body, and in particular, the human brain. After graduation, she is planning to take a gap year to travel and read, which will be something new for a girl that has been barely beyond Arizona state borders. She subsequently plans to attend medical school at Midwestern University where she will study to become a doctor of osteopathic medicine, and ultimately, a neurologist or neurosurgeon. Bri hopes to translate the underlying themes of the liberal arts into the science realm in order to take a more well-rounded approach to healthcare.
Bri is 22 years old and is a Glendale, Arizona native. She loves overcast and rainy days, which are a rarity in the Valley of the Sun. She has no children and no husband, but she keeps the company of four very lovable mutts and one very fluffy kitty. Perkins currently works as a technician (also known as a Genius) at Apple fixing iPods, iPhones, Macs and iPads. She also volunteers as a Research Assistant at ASU’s Cognition and Natural Behavior Laboratory where she is studying the effects of shared space on productivity, and the effects of physical interaction on mental faculty and memory. Bri also works as a Psychology and Writing Tutor with the STEM/TRIO program on the ASU West Campus, which focuses its efforts on providing support for first generation and minority students.