Vine River Hermitage, my new chapbook of poems, is now available from Cooper Dillon Books. Weighing in at 34 pages and sporting beautiful art and design, Vine River Hermitage draws together a formally and thematically eclectic mix of poems written over the last six or so years. (I’m actively seeking reviewers as well as opportunities for readings/events—please feel free to contact me if you’re interested in either.)

If you’re heading to this year’s AWP conference in Chicago, Vine River Hermitage will be available at the Cooper Dillon bookfair table at the special conference price of $7 (cover price being $9). If you’re not going to AWP, you can still take advantage of the conference discount via Cooper Dillon’s Website (http://www.cooperdillon.com) now through March 3. Cooper Dillon Books is an independent publisher of poetry. By ordering directly from them, you’ll be supporting a group of incredibly devoted individuals who (despite day jobs!) use their spare time to bring projects such as this one into being.

Here's a poem from the chapbook:

Vine River I


He holds the map up to the mountainside,
a thing in the sky turning to earth.
To be a map of a face without lines,
to be a turning thing in the sky.
A line on the map means hunger—
a room filled with mounted deer and birds.
What she fears is the totem of anything.

All maps lead to and from the here.
She preferred pines groaning in the wind—
when they move from there, long ripples.
The maps were bright, although blank.
Nothing could be said for their cheerfulness,
no center would do, no heart would match.
A named place indicates days passing by.

Late, they heard bridges dying in the cold.
Silent faces at the end of dinner.
He was not talking to her, but to himself.
Blood at the mouth’s northern edge.
Their years together became something true.
A moose came knocking snow from boughs
and she stopped making words for real things.