January 22

 

rob mclennan

 

 

Cole Swensen: should something happen                   to the heart.
You:             a punctuation                    based on elevation, 

thin air. More buoyant 

than I’ve seen you                                 , lately. The composition
of a grain of sand. How mountains, 

weather, artefacts    of library archive. The needle

and the ink-stained press.  A cloud                   of campfire sparks.

I work a desire                                       for an echo

beyond laundry,      that single, unbroken sentence.

Our young ladies               reclaim two-day-old snow, the distance
of their reach                    their only measure.

 

 

 

Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, his most recent titles include the poetry collection the book of smaller (University of Calgary Press, 2022), and a suite of pandemic essays, essays in the face of uncertainties (Mansfield Press, 2022). He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

Four poems on receiving the AstraZeneca Covid-19 vaccine (first shot,

rob mclennan

 

1.

This unfamiliar pharmacy: lone strip mall beside row housing,
and the apartment where my grandmother lived 

once she sold the house, and later, as

the doctor finally took away
her car keys. How long was she there? Before 

her final weeks, resisting relocation

into a nursing home, arriving many years
beyond when she probably should. The silence 

of low traffic,
plentiful birds. I park within an empty lot 

and wait.

 

2.

I held              my jab, this
one good thing. An appointment, five days prior 

to my high-risk spouse.

An epiphany, to profess. There was no pain,
no soreness, stiffness. A low exhaustion 

impossible to distinguish

from this day-to-day. I mean,
pandemic.

 

3. 

Ontario, a question              far closer
to silence 

than monologue, dialogue. This blustering
of swagger, house rules, bubbles, the figure 

of the body: how
has it evolved? We do not speak of blood clots, 

bleeds. I reserve my anger

for what truly deserves. Our inept
premier, poorly preening 

to pretend, before
he simply hides. I ask, again: how 

has it evolved?

 

4.

A strip mall, five shops wide: the pharmacy,
within. Where, for a long time, two lots held 

by Dairy Queens. Earlier still, two
Mac’s Convenience. How 

would one choose? Competition, clearly,

is fierce in these parts. Across Albion Road North, the empty
baseball diamond, sketched 

in green. Awaiting players, this absence of crowds,

of neighbourhood children. How diamonds
are forever.

 

 

 

 

Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, his most recent poetry titles include A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019), Life sentence, (Spuyten Duyvil, 2019) and the book of smaller (University of Calgary Press, 2022). In spring 2020, he won ‘best pandemic beard’ from Coach House Books via Twitter, of which he is extremely proud (and mentions constantly). He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

Four poems for Ian McCulloch

rob mclennan



1.

North of the Mattawa, Trout Lake,
grey-eyed clear and distant; a moment

which, seemingly. The beginning
of the long dash. Time, and

endless.


2.

Accelerates: the arid drift
of Nipissing, September.

We are caught now
in the mandibles of surviving.

What light
on remaining colour.


3.

Culled, from geologic excess.
If I grow weary

of being resilient. Airlifted, how
the dawn unwinds.


4.

The efficiency
of syllables. The Trout Lake monster,

northern gateways, settlement. A pantomime
of balance, condition. This scrap

of bare earth.









Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. His most recent poetry titles include A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019) and Life sentence, (Spuyten Duyvil, 2019). He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

 

Four poems for Stuart Ross’ sixtieth birthday

rob mclennan

1.

Each of your birthdays, in turn, highlight

such universal constants: poodles, pigeons, 

sparrows,

haircuts. Writer going to hell! The name
telegraphs, withers. This amplitude of highways

that bear significant weight across lakeshore,

and the inability
of metaphor. I open

my mouth.


2.

For such an occasion, one centres the mind.
We reconfirm altitude,

amplitude, position: Amherst

and Hardscrabble; the Upper Canada
Academy. These strongholds

of Family Compact, and a garage
packed with chapbooks. One late, late night

in 1979: you began to formulate an outline,
calculating digits

in your father’s office. The light
of his photocopier.


3.

In the mid-nineteenth century, the largest centre
in Ontario. The city of Cobourg,

and the stretch of two centuries to finally evolve
from quiet lakeside

to quiet lakeside. What the poodles in the state of Oregon
and Wisconsin combined

had dreamt into being. The conspiracy

that followed. What it had most likely been
all along.


4.

Happy sixtieth birthday: neither words
nor mere numbers

but outlaws

and vaudeville stars, performing
on an endless, perfect stage. The concession stand

is raining. The books have gained sentience,
and can’t sell themselves fast enough.

Poodle.





Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, he won the John Newlove Poetry Award in 2010, the Council for the Arts in Ottawa Mid-Career Award in 2014, and was longlisted for the CBC Poetry Prize in 2012 and 2017. In March, 2016, he was inducted into the VERSe Ottawa Hall of Honour. His most recent poetry titles include A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019) and Life sentence, (Spuyten Duyvil, 2019). An editor and publisher, he runs above/ground press, seventeen seconds: a journal of poetry and poetics (ottawater.com/seventeenseconds), Touch the Donkey (touchthedonkey.blogspot.com) and the Ottawa poetry pdf annual ottawater (ottawater.com). He is “Interviews Editor” at Queen Mob’s Teahouse, editor of my (small press) writing day, and an editor/managing editor of many gendered mothers. He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

 

An interview with rob mclennan

Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, he won the John Newlove Poetry Award in 2010, the Council for the Arts in Ottawa Mid-Career Award in 2014, and was longlisted for the CBC Poetry Prize in 2012 and 2017. In March, 2016, he was inducted into the VERSe Ottawa Hall of Honour. His most recent titles include the poetry collections A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019), Life sentence, (Spuyten Duyvil, 2019) and Household items (Salmon Poetry, 2019), as well as a small handful of chapbooks and pamphlets with No Press, Penteract Press, post ghost press and above/ground press. He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta.

How did you begin writing, and what keeps you going?

I’m not entirely sure how I began. I was fortunate enough to have a social circle in high school that was also emerging into writing, performing and making music, but I had started my own random scribbles here and there well before any of that. Hindsight suggests that I absorbed both my father’s self-driven work ethic as an Eastern Ontario dairy farmer, and my mother’s stubbornness, both of which kept me writing long enough to get into the habit, the rhythm, of daily routine. But how did I begin? I had older cousins who read to me before I began school, and was immersed in books at a pretty early age. I was always one of the first to be allowed into the next level of my junior-school library, etcetera. I don’t know how it began. Perhaps it was always there.

Occasionally I am impressed that, throughout my twenties and into my thirties, I kept pushing so hard on my writing, despite whatever difficulties—financial, publishing, etcetera—might have set in my way. I think I have always been good at the long game, even to the point of keeping all of my teenaged writing journals for the sake of my eventual literary archive (which was submitted to the University of Calgary a couple of years ago). I mean, who does that?

I recently posted an interview with Newfoundland novelist Terry Doyle that referenced something told to him by Yann Martel, the advice to ‘write as though he had but a month to live.’ Honestly, growing up with an ill parent probably pushed me harder than just about anything else, the idea that she might have had plans for herself, most of which weren’t possible, due to her illness. I knew pretty early that I had to get as much work done and published as I could, before something outside of my control made that choice impossible.

What poets have influenced the ways in which you write?

During my later teens, I latched on to the work of poets such as George Bowering, John Newlove, Leonard Cohen, Margaret Atwood and Richard Brautigan. Bowering was an important discovery for me, not just for his specific interest in writing out the local, but for his editorial and critical work, sending me out in numerous directions as reader, writer, editor, critic/reviewer and publisher. Through him, and later, others, I realized the importance of the broad spectrum, as well as the importance of doing work on and for others.

Later, my work was influenced by poets such as Robert Kroetsch, Artie Gold, Andrew Suknaski, Jack Spicer, Barry McKinnon and John Newlove, all of whom I return to, as required.

Over the past decade or so, I have been far more influenced by poets such as Rosmarie Waldrop, Emmanuel Hocquard, Kathleen Fraser, Cole Swensen and Anna Gurton-Wachter. The list gets perpetually longer, shifts and adapts. As it should.

Have you noticed a difference in the ways in which you approach the individual poem since you started publishing full-length collections?

My shifts away from the individual poem came prior to that. While I did shift into the book as my unit of composition, I had been a number of years composing chapbook-length works, having moved away from the individual poem so early in my writing that I can’t even remember a time when I may have written them. I write books, and have now for many years. Books that weave into and around other books, including my own.

How important has mentorship been to your work? Is there anyone who specifically assisted your development as a writer?

I think mentorship is essential, and I know I have benefitted multiple times over, even from the most casual gesture by a more established writer. Part of being involved in the writing life, I believe, is to keep an eye out for each other, and to assist where and however necessary, especially towards those who are just emerging, or going through difficulty. Anyone who writes should be attentive to what it is we owe it to those who helped us, and to pass along the same. It is one of the ways in which we can guarantee a healthy literary culture.

I was incredibly fortunate during my later teens and immediate twenties in that I had a number of poets who provided encouragement—including Gary Geddes, Henry Beissel, Mark Frutkin, Diana Brebner and Michael Dennis—although frustratingly little in the way of editorial guidance.  Hindsight, again : none of them really understood what it was I was working from, let alone working towards (I suspect I was also a combination of floundering and woefully inarticulate).

The fact that they took me seriously and my work seriously was enormous, and provided me enough push to keep myself moving forward. By my mid-twenties, I had started publishing, editing and reviewing as well, and interacting with Ken Norris, Judith Fitzgerald and George Bowering, who were able to assist with reading recommendations and general advice and encouragement. Judith was important enough that we gifted our wee girl, Aoife, Judith’s name as one of her middle names.

You are currently editor/publisher of a number of projects. Why was this important, and have you learned through the process?

Patience, I would think. Although the lesson allows itself to be applied to anything I might be working on, I’m not specifically sure what prompted it, apart from experience generally.

I have always considered that if you wish to participate in anything – whether arts, or business, or whathaveyou – you have to get a sense of what has happened before you, and what is happening around you. Being such an active reviewer, editor and publisher has allowed me nearly thirty years of awareness into contemporary writing, and I am perpetually reaching out to see beyond the scope of the boundaries of my own knowledge and reading. What else is there, out to be read, absorbed and understood? Whenever I run a poetry workshop, I suggest that if you wish to build a proper house, it is important to know of as many tools as possible, so as to apply the right tool for the job. I am wishing to learn, re-learn or simply be reminded about all of the tools. And the tools keep changing, obviously.

What are you currently working on?

Since January, I’ve been working on a poetry manuscript tentatively titled « book of magazine verse , » although its been called that long enough that the tentative title has grown into the actual title. I often utilize titles as place-holders, but they occasionally become intertwined with the manuscript-in-progress, akin to vine in the brick; I wouldn’t be able to switch out the title now without tearing out important parts of the foundation. Last year, I carved out a chapbook-length piece, « snow day, » that has begun morphing into a longer, full-length manuscript. I’ve added a further section to same, and am slowly considering a further section. I’m still feeling it out, although short stories began resurfacing another couple of weeks ago. Who knows where that might end up.

Can you name a poet you think should be receiving more attention?

Lately I’ve been enjoying new work by Isabella Wang, Marty Cain, Julie Carr, Magdalena Zurawski, Zachary Schomburg, Nikki Reimer, Trish Salah and Ben Robinson. And of course, there are those poets I would publish repeatedly and forever, if they would let me, including Gil McElroy, Julia Polyck-O’Neill, Anna Gurton-Wachter, Jessica Smith, Elizabeth Robinson, Monty Reid, Jason Christie, Sarah Mangold, Stephen Brockwell and Kate Siklosi (among others, of course). I mean : my entire publishing enterprise and editorial stance is built upon the idea that there are writers out there that deserve far more attention than they are currently receiving.

Three poems for knife│fork│book

rob mclennan


1.

A resistance, stocked. Within these walls,
enough to flood Spadina’s passage,

each nineteenth-century window. Speak to me
of the principled stance. And the conviction that wisdom

lies in books.

The Bellevue Estate of George Taylor Denison,
one hundred acres

of interjection: a low-rise marketplace
of patterned shops and grocery,

this brightly-coloured quilt.

André du Bouchet: I will repeat myself
like earth you tread.


2.

Gadding, smalls. This spare notebook leads
to highways, alleys, loops

of cellular, broadcast. Cold knowledge,

passion; a poem

might pronounce in shadow, lifts; the transparency
of disappeared. A stream of fluent,

bewildered power. Signaled, as

an array
you may further wish to investigate.


3.

Toronto neither New York nor Vancouver. Two hundred kilometres
of Yonge Street, percolating north. A dark crease

astride a labyrinth; the pure altitude
of shuttered pines, these rows

of automobiles. Amid a lineage of care and careful lines,

a carless gait, a lyric hearth,
a book-safe space. Kirby beckons,

here: the day agrees. Chemists recognize,

the compounds lignin and cellulose: observed in dusty classics,
coffee, and chocolate. As books ferment, release

a similar comfort, scent. A poem’s worth.





Born in Ottawa, Canada’s glorious capital city, rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, his most recent include the forthcoming poetry titles Household items (Salmon Poetry, 2019) and A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019).

Train : a journal of astonishment

Issue #4 : Terrence Abrahams David Alexander Sacha Archer Manahil Bandukwala rob mclennan Chimedum Ohaegbu Terese Mason Pierre Ben Robinson Ian Seed Lydia Unsworth

A limited amount of copies will be available for free at the following locations:

Open Books: A Poem Emporium (Seattle WA), Berl's Brooklyn Poetry Shop (Brooklyn NY), the Windsor Small Press Fair (Windsor ON) and the New Orleans Poetry Festival (New Orleans LA).

includes shipping

Canadian $4.00 CAD American $6.00 CAD International $8.00 CAD

Four issue subscriptions also available:

Includes shipping

Canadian $15.00 CAD American $21.00 CAD International $30.00 CAD

Terrence Abrahams lives and writes quietly in Toronto. His second and third poetry chapbooks are forthcoming this year with ZED Press and baseline press. Find him on Twitter at @trabrahams.

David Alexander is the author of After the Hatching Oven from Nightwood Editions (2018). His poems have appeared in Prairie Fire, The Rusty Toque, The Humber Literary Review, the Literary Review of Canada, Big Smoke Poetry and other journals and magazines. David volunteers as a reader for The Puritan and works in Toronto’s nonprofit sector.

Sacha Archer is a writer that works in numerous mediums as well as being the editor of Simulacrum Press (simulacrumpress.ca). His work has been published internationally. Archer has two full-length collections of poetry, Detour (gradient books, 2017) and Zoning Cycle (Simulacrum Press, 2017), as well as a number of chapbooks, the most recent being TSK oomph (Inspiritus Press, 2018), Contemporary Meat (The Blasted Tree, 2018) and Autopsy Report (above/ground press). His visual poetry has been exhibited in the USA, Italy, and Canada. Archer lives in Ontario, Canada.

Manahil Bandukwala is the author of two chapbooks, Paper Doll (Anstruther Press, 2019) and Pipe Rose (battleaxe press, 2018). She was the 2019 winner of Room magazine's Emerging Writer Award, and won the Lilian I. Found Award for poetry in 2019. See her work at manahils.com.

rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, his most recent titles include the poetry collections How the alphabet was made (Spuyten Duyvil, 2018) and the forthcoming Household items (Salmon Poetry, 2019) and A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019). He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

Chimedum Ohaegbu attends the University of British Columbia in pursuit of hummingbirds and a dual degree in English literature and creative writing. She is Uncanny Magazine’s assistant editor and her work is published or forthcoming in Strange Horizons, This Magazine, Honey & Lime Lit, and The Capilano Review.

Terese Mason Pierre is a Canadian writer, editor and organizer. Her work has appeared in the Hart House Review, Collapsar, The Brasilia Review and others. She is the poetry editor for Augur Magazine and the co-host of Shab-e She'r, a poetry reading series in Toronto.

Ben Robinson's recent poems include the tale of a man who finds himself lodged in his condominium’s garbage chute, as well as an account of the Christian God’s foray into Spanish lessons. In 2019, The Blasted Tree will publish his chapbook, The Sims in Real Life. He has only ever lived in Hamilton, ON.

Ian Seed’s latest collections are New York Hotel (Shearsman, 2018), which was selected by Mark Ford as a TLS Book of the Year, and Distances (Red Ceilings, 2018).

Lydia Unsworth is the author of two collections of poetry: Certain Manoeuvres (Knives Forks & Spoons, 2018) and Nostalgia for Bodies (Erbacce, 2018), for which she won the 2018 Erbacce Poetry Prize. Her work can be found in Ambit, Pank, Litro, Tears in the Fence, Banshee, Ink Sweat and Tears, and Sentence: Journal of Prose Poetics, among other places. Based in Manchester/Amsterdam. Twitter@lydiowanie

Train : a journal of prose poems

Issue #3 : Simon Brown Carlie Blume Conyer Clayton Ariel Dawn Kate Feld Mike Ferguson M.W. Jaeggle Aaron Kreuter Amy LeBlanc John Luna Ian Martin rob mclennan Pearl Pirie Adam Strauss Erin Emily Ann Vance

A limited amount of copies will be available for free at the following locations:
Open Books: A Poem Emporium (Seattle WA), Berl's Brooklyn Poetry Shop (Brooklyn NY), knife| fork | book (Toronto ON) and Passages Bookshop (Portland OR).

Includes shipping

Canadian $4.00 CAD American $6.00 CAD International $8.00 CAD

Four-issue subscriptions are also available:

Includes shipping

Canadian $15.00 CAD American $21.00 CAD International $30.00 CAD

Simon Brown (1979) is a self-taught poet and interdisciplinary artist from the traditional territory of the Passamaquoddy nation (southwestern New Brunswick) currently based in rural Québec. His French and English texts have been presented in collaborative artworks, performances, collections and artist books, and in magazines such as Lemon Hound, Estuaire, Vallum, Poetry Is Dead, Watts, and The Blasted Tree. As a translator, he has adapted texts by Erin Robinsong, Angela Carr, Danielle LaFrance and Jacob Wren, among others. Recent collections include Grande poussière (with Maude Pilon, squint press, Montréal, 2017) and Outre-flaques (Vanloo, Marseille, 2018).

Carlie Blume is an emerging writer of fiction and poetry.  Her writing centres around deconstructing myths about sexuality, motherhood, and mental health. Her work has been featured in The Maynard, Loose Lips and Pulp Mag. She lives in Surrey and is currently working on her first collection of poetry, as well as a novel.

Conyer Clayton is an Ottawa based artist who aims to live with compassion, gratitude, and awe. Her most recent chapbooks are: Undergrowth (bird, buried press), Mitosis (In/Words Magazine and Press), and For the Birds. For the Humans. (battleaxe press). She released a collaborative album with Nathanael Larochette, If the river stood still, in August 2018. Her work appears in ARC, Prairie Fire, The Fiddlehead, The Maynard, Puddles of Sky Press, and others. She won Arc's 2017 Diana Brebner Prize, and writes reviews for Canthius. Her debut full length collection of poetry is forthcoming.

Ariel Dawn lives in Victoria, British Columbia. She spends her time writing, reading, and studying Tarot. Recent work appears in canthius, (parenthetical), Foxhole, Room, and is forthcoming in A Furious Hope anthology.

Kate Feld writes essays, poetry, short fiction and work that sits between forms. Her writing has appeared in journals and anthologies including Hotel, The Stinging Fly and The Letters Page.

Mike Ferguson is an American permanently resident in the UK and widely published in online magazines. His most recent print collection is the sonnets chapbook Precarious Real [Maquette Press, 2016] and he edited with Rupert Loydell the music poems anthology Yesterday’s Music Today [Knives Forks and Spoons Press, 2015]. A retired English teacher, he co-authored the education text Writing Workshops [Cambridge University Press, 2015].

M.W. Jaeggle is a poet from Vancouver, currently living in Montreal. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in The Dalhousie Review, CV2, Existere, in the anthology Refugium: Poems for the Pacific, and elsewhere. He was longlisted for the 2018 CBC Poetry Prize.

Aaron Kreuter is the author of the poetry book Arguments for Lawn Chairs (Guernica Editions, 2016), and the short story collection You and Me, Belonging (Tightrope Books, 2018). I have had my work appear in journals and magazines such as The Puritan, Grain, Arc, Poetry is Dead, The Temz Review, and other places.

Amy LeBlanc holds a BA (Hons) in English Literature and creative writing from the University of Calgary. She is currently non-fiction editor at filling Station magazine. Her work has appeared, or is scheduled to appear in Room, Prairie Fire, Contemporary Verse 2, and EVENT among others. Amy won the 2018 BrainStorm Poetry Contest for her poem 'Swell'. She is the author of two chapbooks, most recently Ladybird, Ladybird published with Anstruther Press in August 2018.

John Luna: I am a dual Canadian-American citizen born of Mexican + American expatriates. Besides writing, my practice is as a visual artist whose background includes painting, sculpture and installation, and a teacher working in the areas of art, design and art history. I currently reside on an island off of the west coast of N. America. Previous publication of written work in art criticism and poetry has appeared in Ditch, Canadian Art, Border Crossings, Canyon, Cordite, and Matrix, among others. A first collection of poems, Listing (Decoupage Publishing, 2015) was released through a small independent press with the help of a crowdfunding campaign. A second book-length manuscript was recently (2017) shortlisted for the Robert Kroetsch Award for Innovative Poetry.

Ian Martin is nobody's mom. Ian's work has appeared recently in where is the river, Bad Nudes, Plenitude Magazine, and Pretty Owl Poetry. Ian has published 4 chapbooks, most recently PLACES TO HIDE (Coven Editions, 2018) and YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO KEEP THIS UP FOREVER (AngelHousePress, 2018). When he's not writing, Ian develops small games and complains online. [http://ian-martin.net]

rob mclennan currently lives in Ottawa, where he is home full-time with the two wee girls he shares with Christine McNair. The author of more than thirty trade books of poetry, fiction and non-fiction, his most recent titles include the poetry collections How the alphabet was made (Spuyten Duyvil, 2018) and the forthcoming Household items (Salmon Poetry, 2019) and A halt, which is empty (Mansfield Press, 2019). He spent the 2007-8 academic year in Edmonton as writer-in-residence at the University of Alberta, and regularly posts reviews, essays, interviews and other notices at robmclennan.blogspot.com

Pearl Pirie writes in Quebec's countryside. She has 3 trade collections, most recently, the pet radish, shrunken from Book*hug. http://www.pearlpirie.com

Adam Strauss lives in Louisville, KY.  He is the author of one full-length collection: For Days (BlazeVox). Most recently, poems of his appear in Fence, Interim, The Tiny, and the Brooklyn Rail.

Erin Emily Ann Vance’s work is forthcoming in Coffin Bell Journal, Augur, Post Ghost Press, and Bad Nudes. She is a contributing reader and writer for Awkward Mermaid Literary Magazine. A 2017 recipient of the Alberta Foundation for the Arts Young Artist Prize and a 2018 Finalist for the Alberta Magazine Awards in Fiction, she completed her MA in Creative Writing in August 2018, and will complete an MA in Folklore in 2020. Erin's debut novel, Advice for Amateur Beekeepers and Taxidermists will be published by Stonehouse Publishing in 2019.