Snailboat, Snail Away
If you want to give me a topic to discuss or say anything at all, please Send me an e-mail. If you request it, I'll write it. Or head to Joseph Carlough on Myspace and do it that way. The new fashioned way.
my dear ol’ college buddy joseph carlough over at displaced snail publications (http://www.josephcarlough.com/ http://snailboat.tumblr.com/ http://www.etsy.com/shop/DisplacedSnail ) has been awesome enough to help my publish my first little chapbook!
it’s called “Sir Baden Powell Patrol Award Winners, 2003-04: 33 short poems on nostalgia, bugs, the winter months, and a house in Orange County, New York.” and it’s simple, and modest, and it fits in your pocket, and it’s full of poems that i’ve written and want to share with you. inside you’ll find 33 poems, that have all previously appeared on my tumblr. (the catch is, now that i’m releasing the book, i’m taking all 33 of these poems down!) so, if you want to read any of these gems again, or you just want to get your hands on some of my poems in printed form, you’ll just have to buy the book!
i know, i know, but don’t worry, it’s only three dollars! so if you want to get your hands on a copy, or eight, head on over to the etsy that i just made! there you’ll find an ever better description of the book, some pictures, and everything else you’ll need to know. ( http://www.etsy.com/shop/AndrewChmielowiec ) (edit: the link is fixed!)
please, please, please re-blog this and help spread the word!(also: permalink at http://sillyandrew.tumblr.com/publications!)
Missed this when it was posted! Here’s my buddy chatting about the book I printed for him. He’s selling it on his Etsy - $3 for 33 poems. That’s less than 10 cents a poem!
Hello dear friends! Trapped Rabbit Two is now up for sale. If I may say so, I think it’s even better than the first. It’s more painful, more true, a little scarier. It’s only $2, and it really is a nifty book. Spread the word!
Thanks,
Joseph
Just finished the formatting, now I have to print, take pictures, and get it up on Etsy. Here’s the poem that runs through the issue, to hold my little rabbits over until it’s up for sale!
here, little rabbit,
the runt of the litter!
alone, alone
by a stake in the garden
there he run
dear life, little rabbit!
afraid, afraid
I will find your little burrow
hello, little rabbit
I’ve got you, little friend!
in hand, my hand
you trapped, little rabbit
Check it out! My friend Denise screenprinted/letterpressed posters out of the first stanza of a poem of mine. I’m going to make a small book to accompany them, and then they’ll be up for sale on my etsy! Hooray!
I once had a dream of putting together a half an hour poetry performance about a really sad pirate. Here’s one of the poems:
Heritage
There arn’t be too much work
When the vessel is in port
Some nights I,
in boredom,
wish for a different life,
A life of roses and seams and tradition
Not pirate tradition
But the heritage and kinship built of
tailors, and of farmers, of silversmiths and
bards
Instead, tonight, I put in a pint of grog
And holler with me boys
Well…yar
My new book of advice poems, Things Not To Do, is now up for sale on my Etsy! Hooray! Only $1.50! Hooray again! It’s a smattering of 45 or so snippets of advice, typed in a font made from my handwriting, and bound on some lovely recycled 28lb paper WITH COLOR. Sick. Bro.
You can either click here or click on the photo.
A poem from the great book of advice. Up on my Etsy soon, I swear!
New book! Not up on the Etsy yet, but it will be soon! Along with much nicer photos!
Halcyon, Sunshine
never asks an invitation into
my glass-walled office
Halloa, everyone! Did a ton of printing this morning…well, no, not a ton, but I printed a few extra copies of Dark Nature, which I haven’t printed in awhile. Tossed ‘em up on my Etsy shop. I spent like 4 months working on these 5 poems and 1 essay. You should get one today, you won’t be disappointed!
Here’s one of the poems:
Rafflesia Avifauna
The plumes of a lamented chickadee
mottled, though bright, are
a shade of alabaster,
He will not sing
I bend to the bird on the ground, wishing to
cradle his pygmy, mangled body,
Tug at the fledgling and find
roots already crept into his bones
His body nurses a nosegay that blooms
a bouquet through his chickadee skeleton
the pollen, treacly, dizzies my head
I leave him to the florets
