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!
The neighborhood I grew up in is surreal and ugly, pockmarked by designer mansions amidst little Cape Cod style homes and tiny mutants, livable sheds with addition after addition put on. There is a trail I used to walk, which was adoringly named The Cicada Walk, that I frequented as a child with my grandmother. I was very young. She’d walk in the middle of the street - there were a lot fewer people driving around at that time - and I’d flutter from tree to tree, both sides of the street, swirling around their bark, looking for callow cicadas who hung limply from crackling paper shells. Cicadas are those bugs that, all summer long, go wra-wra-wra-wra-wra in the trees. They’re fat and slovenly, slow and gross, like couch potatoes with wings. When they reproduce, the babes live in the ground for a long time, something like 15 years, and then they come out, en masse, and climb trees with their tough little crab bodies. They don’t go wra-wra-wra-wra-wra yet. They climb up and sit, and eventually, they burst out of their carapaces, and, while their wings dry and harden, they hang from the tree like a piece of old celery. They’re very ugly throughout every phase of their lifecycles.
New book! Not up on the Etsy yet, but it will be soon! Along with much nicer photos!
First writings. Hope I can keep it up!
“ The amount of people who drive cars!
I am a teacher, and I live just ten minutes from my school. I see high school students through tests and poems, and I try and get them to think for themselves. I figure, if I could learn to do it, these kids can learn to do it. Regardless of how many of them actually do, I have to stay optimistic about it.
Optimism is the key. Without optimism, the outside is dark.
Three days ago, I was given a promotion, and then I was given a raise. I was made to believe that the raise was separate from the promotion, that the raise was mandatory, and that the promotion wasn’t, but wouldn’t come with any extra pay. Free labor.”
