Sometimes I don’t remember where and when I wrote poems but this time I do. It was in a house that was halfway boarded up in a trailer park in front of a window that looked out onto a river. It was winter and the thermostat was at 45 because, it turns out, there was no insulation. Things weren’t dark, they were extremely jagged. This is what we looked like:

Here they are, the poems. Thanks to Jake L for giving these a home with Spork, whose goal of publishing 100 chapbooks (in their nigh-indestructible raw-board format) I am in awe of. Particularly since they’ve got a knack of mixing established names with up and comers in a way that raises all boats and makes me want to read on into the 100. Joyelle McSweeney, Drew Krewer, Dan Beach Quick, Feng Sun Chen.