Wednesday, July 28, 2010

kadar koli 5

Featuring visual art, translation, and poetry by: Barbara Maloutas, Brenda Ijima, Jane Joritz-Nakagawa, Roger Snell, Nathaniel Mackey, Clifton Riley, Susan Briante, Teresa K. Miller, Kim Gek Lin Short, Warren Craghead, Ammiel Alcalay, Eileen Myles, Richard Owens, Carrie Kaser, Jessica Smith, Aaron Lowinger, Sarah Peters, Lisa A. Forrest, Michael Kelleher, Maria Mazziotti Gillan, Sean Reynolds. Edited by Micah Robbins and David Hadbawnik. Designed by Clifton Riley.

$10 plus shipping

Monday, July 26, 2010

new from dancing girl press

Between the Devil and the Deep
Lindsay Bland
dancing girl press, 2010

Lindsay Bland holds an MFA from the University of Montana and currently lives and writes in Milwaukee.

The Madre Bones
Amy Fetzer Larakers
dancing girl press, 2010

Amy Fetzer Larakers has had poems published in Near South and blossombones, and her poem “It begins in anise/and ends in Asheville” was published in the 2008 Best of the Net Anthology. She has an MA in English from the Program for Writers at the University of Illinois at Chicago, and a concentration in Latin American and Latino Studies. She currently lives in Wheaton, Illinois.

Squint into the Sun

Jessica Bozek
dancing girl press, 2010

Jessica Bozek is the author of The Bodyfeel Lexicon (Switchback Books) and several chapbooks, including Other People's Emergencies (Hive Press/Dusie Kollektiv). Recent poems appear in Action, Yes, Artifice, Guernica, and Womb. Jessica runs Small Animal Project (, a reading series based in Cambridge, MA.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

New Cupboard Release: Amanda Goldblatt's CATALPA

"No one is asking anyone to change.”

This Is Not True

by Amanda Goldblatt
Now Available

1 tape-bound volume
Book Design by William Todd Seabrook
Cover Image by Amanda Goldblatt

$15/year subscription, $5/individual

The Cupboard is pleased to announce the release of Catalpa: This Is Not True by Amanda Goldblatt—an essay, redacted.

We can not know what presence is until we know how to punctuate it. We cannot know how to punctuate it until we admit the truth. We cannot admit the truth until we know what words we need to hide. Catalpa is an essay on scrims and landscapes. It's a poem, a redaction, a confession, at least once a recipe. Here one wants to know: what if animals die and it might not mean anything? Here one is given: an essay that builds sandcastles on the floor. It’s the best kind of nonfiction: the kind that isn’t true.

Read excerpts here.