Thursday, September 29, 2016

Barbara Brinson Curiel, CASCADIA, A Bunchgrass Press Chapbook




Cascadia

poems

Barbara Brinson Curiel


Bunchgrass Press is pleased to publish a 3rd (limited edition) poetry chapbook of Barbara Brinson Curiel's poems: Cascadia.


The poems included are:

Walking the Bottoms, Arcata, California

Drought, Humboldt County, California, 2014

Two Seasons, Northern California

Cascadia 


Barbara Brinson Curiel


Barbara Brinson Curiel won the Philip Levine Prize for her book Mexican Jenny and Other Poems (Anhinga Press, 2014).  Curiel teaches English and Creative Writing at Humboldt State University.

Friday, September 23, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #336

The Condor Club, San Francisco, 1970
(Wikipedia photo... by Michael Holley)


Hawk Season Notebook #336

Poison mushrooms. That kind of 1971 wariness. You stand belly-ill in front of a Chinatown window, stare at wood slat cages of mallard ducks. It is a touristy night. Your girlfriend is behind you, holding you, holding a good camera. North Beach is filled with orange and yellow lights, blues and hot-pinks. There is a wreck at Broadway and Columbus... two identical Ford Mavericks. A bloody-brow woman in a fur coat is at the sidewalk curb by the Condor Club... moaning. Your girlfriend has a basement apartment in the Marina where you sometimes sleep. She keeps a small garden. She likes paper lanterns. She asks, Want duck next Friday... without mushrooms? Two tow trucks pull up. The Condor Club's neon, outlining a famous stripper, blinks; Carol Doda, you say to your girlfriend, I met her before she got silicone. You will soon break up, so you stroll your girlfriend back into Chinatown and buy, to be romantic, another paper lantern... a space filler.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #295

Red Shuttleworth


Hawk Season Notebook #295

Heavy autumn shadows. Self-extinguishing stars you can only imagine once existed. Recalled pleasures... like Copenhagen Snuff. Did the Marlboro Man really die of cancer? Memory: the girl ran cold water on a motel-white washcloth, gave it a hard half-wring, ran it angry-wet across her brow... and you liked how clear drops of water dripped off her chin. You picked up your black Resistol from a low set of cheap-wood drawers, put it on tight against the outside summer wind. She said, I hate privacy. Half-lit lamps.... We should all be public. When we aren't public, we get discarded... like theatre programs left on seats after a show. She poured herself a shot... the last of that tequila. Heavy autumn clouds... no rain. Today it is September-middle. A friend turns up at the post office... unseen for a decade. He is eighty. Lifts weights, but still looks eighty... an in-shape eighty. He speaks of having entered a season of death, funerals he attends. You're supposed to care, he says, but you sit and mind-wander, don't know half the mourners, and you ask where God might be, not that most of us should live past where we find ourselves. Memory: white inland gulls settling onto furrowed ground.

Sunday, September 11, 2016

CHAPBOOK #138, A Red Shuttleworth Poetry Collection




Chapbook #138

Three Poems

Red Shuttleworth


Published in a limited edition (44 copies) by Bunchgrass Press, Red Shuttleworth's Chapbook #138 presents three poems from the in-progress Hawk Season Notebook: Poems and Tidings:

Transitionals

Renderings

and

Fragment: Hawk Season Notebook


Red Shuttleworth's Woe to the Land Shadowing (Blue Horse Press) received the 2016 Western Heritage (Wrangler) Award for Outstanding Poetry Book.  Shuttleworth is a three-time winner of the (Western Writers of America) Spur Award for Poetry.  In 2007, True West magazine named Shuttleworth "Best Living Western Poet."


Red Shuttleworth

Saturday, September 10, 2016

4,500 MILES: TAKING JACK BACK ON THE ROAD, A Gonzo Prose Book by Ciara Shuttleworth





4,500 Miles:
Taking Jack Back on the Road

A Gonzo Prose Book by

Ciara Shuttleworth



Ciara Shuttleworth's 4,500 Miles: Taking Jack Back on the Road is published by Humanitas Media Publishing and is available in hardcover... and digitally via Kindle and iBooks.

The book features artistically rendered images... starring a cut-out of Jack Kerouac ("Flat Jack")... which accompanies author Ciara Shuttleworth from her residency at the Jack Kerouac House in Orlando, Florida, to the scablands of Washington State.

Ciara Shuttleworth
at Kerouac House, Orlando, Florida


The book's photographs were edited by award-winning filmmaker, artist, and photographer Pamela Theodutou.

Ciara Shuttleworth has been published in journals and anthologies, including Alaska Quarterly Review, Confrontation, Hayden's Ferry Review, The New Yorker, the Norton Introduction to Literature (11e), Ploughshares, and The Southern Review.  Shuttleworth was the "Feature Poet" of the Fall 2016 issue of San Pedro River Review.

Ciara Shuttleworth 
in Jack Kerouac's chair, Kerouac House, Orlando, Florida,
early 2015, when she was the Kerouac Project's
51st Writer-in-Residence



Shuttleworth received an MFA in Poetry from the University of Idaho, a BFA in Painting/Drawing from San Francisco Art Institute, and a BA in Studio Art from Gustavus Adolphus College.

Shuttleworth's poetry chapbook, Night Holds Its Own, published by Blue Horse Press, is available on Amazon.



Shuttleworth is currently Executive Director of Columbia Basin Allied Arts.

Jack Kerouac in his chair.



Friday, September 9, 2016

Hawk Season Notebook #280

Red Shuttleworth


Hawk Season Notebook #280

Fun-house 1962 Saturday evening with CM... the bus ride from Playland at the Beach back to her parents' house, the way she said, Think of me as a version of Today... just before she took off a sweater and then her sundress and kissed you. Her mom and dad were up in Calistoga.  CM played a Gogi Grant 45, The Wayward Wind. The bookcases were jammed with medical textbooks. Her parents liked Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra. An uncle was a parish priest in San Jose or Cupertino. That she spoke of Mass the next day and kept her bra and panties on suggested a religious message. It was November... rainy outside. When the heater came on, there was a swampy odor... as if gym socks were drying over a vent. CM asked if you were afraid of roller coasters. You finished the white bread mayonnaise sandwich she made for  you, washed it down with a can of Oly... as if points could be scored.