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THIS DREAM THE WORLD: New & Selected Poems
NASTY WOMEN POETS: An Unapologetic Anthology of Subversive Verse
THE OPEN HAND
A FIELD OF FOUNDLINGS: Selected Poems of Iryna Starovoyt
VOTIVES: Selected Poems from the Literary Remains
RECEIPT
Lost Horse Press New Poets Series: New Poets, Short Books | Volume I  
|
  Gwendolyn Cash, Boyd W. Benson & Lisa Galloway

ISBN 978-0-9762114-7-1    $16.95  /  $18.95 (Canada)    5.5 x 8.5   88 pp   Spring 2006    Poetry





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Series Editor, Marvin Bell

Acts of Contrition by Gwendolyn Cash
The Owl’s Ear by Boyd W. Benson
Liminal: A Life of Cleavage by Lisa Galloway

Lost Horse Press is delighted to announce the annual poetry series titled, LOST HORSE PRESS NEW POETS SERIES: NEW POETS | SHORT BOOKS, and its collaboration with poet Marvin Bell, who will serve as Series Editor.

Lost Horse Press will publish an annual volume of three new poets, each poet represented by twenty to thirty pages of poetry with a personal prose statement about his or her writing. Edited by Marvin Bell, the series will feature poets who are relatively unknown in literary circles but have strong individual voices and have shown a strong commitment to writing.

This series is not intended to become a contest or a market. Neither Lost Horse Press nor the editor wishes to receive uninvited inquiries or manuscripts. The goal is to foster the unconventional and unknown. The series will introduce poetry that presses the boundaries of language—the sociopolitical, the surreal, the nutty, the extreme, good free verse, and good formalist verse. We prefer lively nonsense to earnest meaninglessness. We do not care for theory-based experiments. Manuscripts will be made up of poems someone can hate and someone can love. Middle-of-the-road doesn’t interest. Anyone who reads the work, whether they love or hate it, should immediately say to herself, “Well, this is different.”

from the Introduction

The idea for this series is indebted to Poets of Today, the Scribner series edited by John Hall Wheelock from 1954 to 1962, which published in eight volumes first books by twenty-four poets, three poets at a time under a single cover. There were fewer of us then. A poet who received the good fortune of book publication would forever thereafter be accorded the status of a serious writer.

Forty-five years later, the competition to publish a first book of poetry is ferocious. Nor does a first book, given the number that appear annually, serve now to define one’s commitment to the art. If one does not “network” (that ugly verb) in the centers of literary opinion, or write with a bow to theory or fashion, it can be more difficult yet. The mechanism of book contests, while mostly honorable, is also dispiriting.

The increased promotion in recent years of American poetry on many levels owes much to a dumbing-down of the art and the proliferation of novelty acts. Yet the country is also chock-full of little-published poets of higher seriousness.

This 3-in-1 series, then, is intended to sample a range of poets who have yet to publish a book and have generally gone about their writing in private. It will not be run as a contest, nor will it accept submissions. The usual biographical notes will be replaced by brief personal statements. Its covers will not carry promotional blurbs.

I believe that, in the matter of poetry, two heads are half as good as one. Therefore, the poems in these short books will be selected and arranged by their authors with minimal editorial interference. The poets will not be asked to adjust their poetry to a house style.

I hope that these samplings, presented with as few trappings as possible, will reaffirm for readers the nature of the poetry in poetry. Serious poetry is not written to satisfy literary opinion. Poetry, like philosophy, is a survival skill.

M.B, Spring 2007

 
Suppose that god of yours
is sleeping.
Suppose no serpent
shudders behind your heel.
Suppose you have made
your own hell.

Gwendolyn Cash, “Your Palm Pressed to Mine”

 

It was a beautiful hollow sound the bones made
Too beautiful for us. Nobody cared to listen.

Boyd W. Benson, “After the War”

 

Like a praying mantis
she bent with both hands within
and said “it’s like a little jelly bean,”
I asked, “does it hurt when you press on it?”

Lisa Galloway, “Not Yet”