Alyse Richmond @alyserichmond-blog - Tumblr Blog

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GUYS PLEASE PRE-ORDER MY NEW CHAPBOOK, POSSESSED BY SPACE

IF YOU DO, YOU’LL GET A FREE DOWNLOAD OF A COMPANION SONG THAT I’M ABOUT A DAY OR TWO AWAY FROM RECORDING

what he said. also, we worked hard on this project along with the very talented Shelby Rosoff & believe me, it shows (and it fucking shines).

#creative writing #poetry #mychael zulauf #possessed by space #cherryalleypress #chapbook #small press #indie press

Clutching the railing, I squint, induce a headache. There it is – The strangest blue whipping lines through the Wadden …

a million years later, here’s a poem published by The Quotable that I wrote while in The Netherlands last May. this piece has evolved like whoa since its initial acceptance, but oh well.

#poetry #creative writing #The Quotable #The Netherlands #Wadden Sea #night #longing

Cherry Alley publishes place-based poetry chapbooks generated during writer’s residencies by emerging and established authors who demonstrate a strong relationship between speaker and landscape, from bustling cities to the middle of nowhere.

One of the many reasons I’ve been MIA on tumblr these days is right here in this link. For the last few months I’ve been working tirelessly on all things grad school, one of which involves publishing a fucking AMAZING chapbook of poetry by Mychael Zulauf entitled, Possessed by Space. Cherry Alley (my little press) is now accepting pre-orders for Mychael’s book, set to be officially released on Saturday, April 16! Pre-order customers receive a $2 discount ($10 instead of $12 per book) as well as a free download of one of Mychael’s songs! Don’t miss out, guys. I can’t stress how beautiful this book is, inside and out, and how blown away I still am every time I read it.

#poetry #poetry chapbook #mychael zulauf #possessed by space #Cherry Alley Press #small press #indie press #Pittsburgh press #book sales

Tobias Wray is a poetry editor for the cream city review. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Third Coast, Bellingham Review, North American Review, Blackbird and elsewhere. He’s been a fina...

in the meantime, please check out this author interview I conducted for The Fourth River Literary Journal with “Queering Nature” poet, Tobias Wray.

#creative writing #poetry #author interview #The Fourth River Literary Journal #Chatham University #Tobias Wray

blogging lapse

yes, I’m still alive! my last semester of grad school is INSANE. I’m super bogged down with thesis revisions, generating new work, writing my introduction, AND plowing through unrealistic independent publishing deadlines to put out a fucking amazing chapbook of poems by Mychael Zulauf (more on that later.) I’m excited about everything that’s going on, but have zero time to post new shit so please, bear with me.

#creative writing #poetry #grad school #overwhelmed #it's all happening

In a bar that feels like church

dark widows mill about smoky pews

picking up dead soldiers, dropping off

well gin fizzes, black sleeves collecting

beer sweat. You tell me about the mourning

you didn’t end up having to face,

as the jukebox in back becomes a choir

of banjo twangs, mingling with the things

I can no longer say & the places I can no longer

put my hands.

#creative writing #poetry #change #catching up #old friends #church #mourning #bars

Kinzua Dam, Allegheny National Forest

Boots smash crab mallet patterns into oily swirls of clay – gray, red. I stop, scrape them on shaving-cream- smooth rocks. Aspens quake in bursts of river air. I’ve been following rotting mile markers to an overlook for half the day, take hold of a flimsy trunk near a chain-link fence, silver spray paint masking rust. It bows toward the southern edge of the Allegheny. I swing, embody an orangutan. My laces, damp and heavy, smack off bare shins, forging an earth-toned Jackson Pollock.

#creative writing #poetry #travel #travel writing #pennsylvania #summer #Allegheny National Forest #hiking #solitude #Jackson Pollock

It’s been 34 days

since Amsterdam & still, I wake in the night trying to orient myself – sometimes after swaying in a bunk below deck, sometimes wondering why I can’t hear Dutch covers

of Michael Jackson beneath the footbridge in Vondelpark. Still, everything is consonant-riddled, coursing through canals & tramlines. Still, I hold odd hours for smoking & flights of sour mash

from smudged glasses. Still, I lull hankerings for the countryside peppered with cows & cottony lambs & white triangles marking sailboats in a sea spelled “zee”, baa’s & bicycle bells on a loop in my head.

#creative writing #poetry #travel #travel writing #The Netherlands #Amsterdam #adjusting #sleep #memories #disorientation

lonestar

That truck. God, you're such a fuck- ing Texan. You’re 44 & married. "Separated" is how you word it but fuck it, I’ve been lonely. So give it to me on my futon. It’s wrong, disorienting. But I feel pretty, special. You don’t finish, maybe can’t finish but baby, that’s good for now.

#creative writing #poetry #sex #loneliness #lonestar #morals #youth

my oldest friend

He held my hand over the saloon door divider.

Just held it. Didn’t move his fingers, didn’t try

to intertwine with mine, didn’t share his sweat.

His thumb slid my rings sideways, but he said nothing,

radiated nothing but the sweetness of hushed wants.

#creative writing #poetry #old friends #dreams #support #love

aboard The Excelsior

Below, the kitchen rocks from the give of always-fraying ropes, from canal waves,

cold, slight, but still too rough to sail. Dog claws skitter over skylights, excited barks

of liberation are interrupted by authoritative Dutch, then laughter, more Dutch.

Our skipper boards the neighboring vessel, chatters in German, flicks fire at a hand-rolled

cigarette – his fifth of the hour. When night falls I return to deck. I want stars, wait for them

to extend in every direction, a band of death and white dwarfs inside newfound blackness.

But they never arrive, so I lean back against the mast and watch swells of streetlight

reflections stipple the Wadden Sea, finally saying aloud, I’m in The Netherlands.

#creative writing #poetry #travel #travel writing #The Netherlands #sailing #The Excelsior #nightfall #Wadden Sea

Four Corners

Northwest on 550, black Challenger, no coats: Rio Rancho, Farmington, Shiprock.

Then, the nothing of yellowing brush, rogue cattle, ghost town steeples.

When John & I arrive, the young Pueblo man will only accept cash.

When the fuck did natives start charging to stand in four states at once?

We cross back into Colorado, pull into the lone gas station. I won’t go in.

Engine running, I’m entranced by a neighboring van packed with mangy dogs –

one for every seat. John returns, shifts hard: Dust. My longboard rolls in the trunk

& I can’t wait to skate across New Mexico, Arizona, Utah & Colorado in a single kick,

surrounded by turquoise, fry bread and the weathered faces of wolves.

#creative writing #poetry #travel #travel writing #Four Corners #desert #November #old flames

first reunion

1 AM: The white Saturn arrives, hot-boxed by Camel Lights. Hadn’t seen Ryan since high school.

We walk to The Empty Keg – bar hose Cape Cods, bottles of original Bud. Try not to chug. We trade

stories, ask the questions we feel we ought to ask, nod to answers that don't matter, nod to Modest Mouse’s “Float On.”

The next round is paid for in quarters, dimes. We barely tip, kick tar chips all the way back to my little blue

apartment in Ripley House, plop down on the pullout, flip through yearbooks, howl at how people have changed. We carry on

until robins find wires, parking lot gravel sparkling in a dying beam of moon, our goodbyes brief puffs of heat. We hug.

I savor the soft grooves of his corduroy blazer against my palms, my wrists. This was our first and only reunion.

#creative writing #poetry #reunion #old friends #drinking #nostalgia #winter #change #aging #early morning

Pushcart Prize Nomination

sooooooooo, Off the Coast just nominated my poem, “Crawford County, 1968″, for the Pushcart Prize! I know a lot of people say this isn’t a big deal, but it is to me. let’s party.

#creative writing #poetry #Pushcart Prize #Off the Coast #stoked on today

I rarely share stuff like this but y’all gotta have a listen. (came across it while researching Stein’s “Tender Buttons.”)

#poetry #Gertrude Stein #DJSpooky #DJWally #IfIToldHim #Picasso #RhythmScience

new work coming soon

hey, all. it’s been a minute since I threw some new poetry your way. wrapping up this semester of grad school has been chaos, albeit wildly productive. so yes, I have lots of fun stuff to share. and yes, it’ll all be posted over winter break in a few short weeks! hard to believe next semester is my last - tons of exciting things coming up (readings, AWP ’16, field seminar to Chile, etc.) stay tuned for updates. cheers, love & whatnot.

#creative writing #poetry #grad school #thesis #progress #chaos

this thing in me

You & I continue kissing lean our seats back, boxing in passengers, reeling in a lust that’s been fighting on the line for months. & when it ends we reach for tiny bottles of tequila & vodka & rum & let kids kick our seat backs because those little pricks don’t bother us one bit now that we’ve finally fucking consummated this mania, this thing in me.

#creative writing #poetry #bisexuality #mania #lust #flying

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Alyse Richmond