Blood Pudding Press at AWP Seattle, February 27-March 1

Placing this note at the top of my page (again), since it is now coming VERY SOON!

Very excited that 2014 will be my Blood Pudding Press's first time ever attending AWP and having a table there - and sharing table space and poetry love with a number of other extra-special poetry women.

At AWP Seattle February 27-March 1.

Blood Pudding Press with The Rooster Moans Poetry Cooperative splitting table T3 – Hyacinth Girl Press with Menacing Hedge splitting table T4 – {dancing girl press & studio} with Misty Publications splitting table T5.

Poetry friends who are there, stop by and meet me at Table T3.

Partake of and consider purchasing the NEW 2014 Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'HOUSE ON FIRE' by Susan Yount.

Partake of and consider purchasing 2013 poetry chapbooks by Lisa M. Cole, Lora Bloom, and Paula Cary.

Partake of and consider purchasing earlier Blood Pudding Press poetry chaps too.

Stop by for the author signing by Margaret Bashaar of her Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL on Thursday February 27 at Table T3 from 3:30-4:00 P.M.

And more more more!

***

If you are not attending AWP, all of the above noted chapbooks (and more) are also available via the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here -http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress

The first review of the new Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook - House on Fire by Susan Yount

Near the end of the book, in the poem “Ars Catastrophe” Yount writes, “Poem was not the sun but a light/ blue stock letter to anyone.” Yes, this is certainly not a book where the sun shines, but many readers will find comfort in Yount’s blunt honesty and bravery while looking darkness straight in the eye and not blinking.

from the first review of the new Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, House on Fire by Susan Yount (thank you very much to Lisa M. Cole for reading it and taking the time to write this review).

Read all of Lisa Cole's remarks here - http://moonglows-reviews.blogspot.com/2014/02/susan-younts-house-on-fire.html

Partake of/purchase the House On Fire chapbook here -https://www.etsy.com/listing/177826146/new-house-on-fire-by-susan-yount-2014?

Blood Pudding Press at AWP Seattle, February 27-March 1

Next week it will be Blood Pudding Press's first year at AWP (Seattle February 27-March 1)!

Meet Blood Pudding Press (and me, because it's my press)at Table T3.

Partake of and consider purchasing the NEW 2014 Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'HOUSE ON FIRE' by Susan Yount.

Partake of and consider purchasing 2013 poetry chapbooks by Lisa M. Cole, Lora Bloom, and Paula Cary.

Partake of and consider purchasing earlier Blood Pudding Press poetry chaps too.

Stop by for the author signing by Margaret Bashaar of her Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook, 'LETTERS FROM ROOM 27 OF THE GRAND MIDWAY HOTEL on Thursday February 27 at Table T3 from 3:30-4:00 P.M.

And more more more.

***

If you are not attending AWP, all of the above noted chapbooks (and more) are also  available via the Blood Pudding Press etsy shop here - http://www.etsy.com/shop/BloodPuddingPress

Middle-aged Dream

Part of last night’s dream:

Just as I am walking into a large public restroom, holding my small dog on a leash, a skinny, middle-aged woman is stepping out of one of the restroom’s stalls, nude, with her pubic hair removed.

‘Can anybody help me?’ she asks in an annoyed tone of voice, as though she already knows that nobody is going to. She was asking for help getting back on her wheelchair.  Everyone just ignores her and she says in an even more annoyed sounding voice, ‘Fine, I’ll call someone’.

That’s when I respond (because I don’t want to be another one of the people who just ignores something they don’t want to deal with or are not sure how to deal with), ‘I could try to help you.  The only reason I didn’t answer right away is because I have my dog and…’.

Meanwhile, everyone else is just washing their hands and ignoring the situation.

***

When my alarm clock woke me from the dream before I could try helping:

As usual when I wake from an unusual dream, I start wondering what it was ABOUT. 

How does a woman step out of a restroom stall, standing by herself, but need help getting back on her wheelchair? I didn’t ask myself that in the dream – in the dream it was more like if she asked for help, she needed help – why question why?  Of course, in real life, people (including me) question things a lot, sometimes to avoid diving in.  In real life, I don’t automatically help someone, unless I feel like they really need it – but how do I know?

Why was the woman nude – and why, after I woke from the dream, did I start wondering if that woman was some representation of ME – a skinny, middle-aged woman who sometimes wishes people would pay more attention to me than they do – but why should they? Maybe I’m an unattractive middle-aged weirdo that’s hard to identify/identify with. Granted, my character in the dream was walking my little dog and wearing a short skirt that many women my age probably wouldn’t wear.

Granted, in real life, I’m pretty skinny and like being skinny and I don’t think I look old, but maybe I do.  Maybe I look considerably older than I feel.  Maybe I look more akin to the annoyed, middle-aged woman who stepped out of the toilet stall nude, but there was nothing attractive about her nudity; it was just odd and disconcerting.  Her face looked old.  Her body was skinny and looked like it was in good shape, but even though she didn’t look unhealthy, she somehow looked too skinny.  And even though I remember seeing her shaved crotch,  I don’t remember seeing any breasts.  What’s that all about?

I’ve been having breast issues lately i.e. I wish I had some; not someone else’s, but I wish mine were a little more substantial instead of borderline nonexistent. Maybe borderline nonexistent is an overstatement.  Or maybe it’s not. Maybe I’m akin to a middle-aged, annoyed, annoying, somewhat disturbing person that’s the opposite of appealing when I get naked (physically OR expressively) and most people would rather just ignore it.

Accept for the younger version of myself that will TRY to help the annoying, unattractive, uncomfortable, nude older version of myself onto her seemingly unnecessary wheelchair. 

?

New in the Mojave River Review

NEW in Mojave River!

The inaugural issue of Mojave River Review is 200+ pages, including two poems by me - "Wax Fangs" and "How Extraordinary Sea Creatures Are Born".

Dive in here -
http://issuu.com/mojaverivermedia/docs/mrr-iss1vol1-draft20/1

New Thirteen Myna Birds offering one teaser piece from each of the three recent Blood Pudding Press contest winners AND offerings from the three finalists!

The newly updated Thirteen Myna Birds is here - an extra-special addition, offering a sneak peak poem from each of the three recent winners of the Blood Pudding Press chapbook contest (Susan Yount, Paul David Adkins, and Alessandra Bava) AND a variety of poems from each of the three finalists (Donavon Davidson, Kelly Andrews, and Jay Sizemore). 

“when I buried the litter of Flemish Giants - fragments of skin stuffed - dusty corners made of shadows, webs, and a few bitten fingernails - two hostages, clerks the age of her kids - & a sliver of her bottom lip - gray dust worked into the crevices”

Dive in here - http://13myna.blogspot.com/

New Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook - House on Fire by Susan Yount

House on Fire by Susan Yount is the first contest winning Blood Pudding Press poetry chapbook of 2014!

Cover Art by Lois Wills

Hand bound with artsy yarn, either fuzzy brown or multicolored.

Available with light tan or light mauve colored covers.

18 poems by Susan Yount, offering well-crafted crude, disturbing, upsetting, traumatic,  perverted, squeamish, sad, tough, gross chicken clucking imbalance, sick eggs, farmerette abuse, real life horror.

Buy the book here - http://www.etsy.com/listing/177825996/new-house-on-fire-by-susan-yount-2014?ref=shop_home_active_1

"...I had to stand on a bucket
to reach the latches. It was so cold. The babies were
already the size of giant snowballs. Ricocheting off the walls,
the door, the box, the floor. With the doe, the hutch
was too small. Huddled together, they could keep warm.

The next morning.  When I opened the door. Red snow..."

from the poem "Flemish Giants"