Tag Archives: #Poetry

Interview with Merrill Oliver Douglas by Mary Beth Hines

Merrill Oliver Douglas has kept a journal since the 11th grade, and her poetry reflects the careful and compassionate attention she’s paid to the world for decades. In her new collection, Persephone Heads for the Gate, winner of the 2022 Gerald Cable Book Award, Douglas resurrects people and places past, interrogates the present, and peers with both curiosity and apprehension into the future. When I spoke with her by phone recently, she had just come off a day of kayaking with friends. And indeed, kayaking and friends show up in the collection along with trains and planes, God, love, New York City, mortality, marshmallows, and more.

Tell me about your journey as a poet. After reading Persephone Heads for the Gate (Silverfish Review Press, 2024), and your chapbook Parking Meters into Mermaids (Finishing Line Press, 2020), I admire how skillfully you bring a lifetime of experience to bear on your poems. How long you have been writing poetry?

I started writing verses in the second grade. They rhymed and scanned because that kind of thing was in the air back then—popular songs and commercials. I picked up on rhythm and musicality early.

I always figured I would be a writer, though I assumed I’d write novels. At some point, I realized I didn’t have the concentration or maybe the knowledge of life you need to create real characters and full stories, so I focused on poetry.

In high school, a teacher told me to go home and write sonnets because that was good practice. I did, and found it was exciting—the way the form forces you not to accept the first thing you write. You must come up with new words or change how you are saying things. That’s where I started gaining a sense of craft.

I kept at it through college. I went to Sarah Lawrence which had a great creative writing program. I took classes and was convinced I was going to be a poet with a capital P.

However, as happens with many of us, competing events took over. I had a child, and held a job that became more and more demanding, so I didn’t write much during those years. When my son left home, and I had more time, I started again.

You are a master of time travel in this collection. Your speakers and narrators observe places, people, events, and objects with a keen eye to past, present, and future. In a way, Time itself is a character. Is that something you did purposefully?

Thank you for that insight! That never occurred to me. I couldn’t have come up with it myself—Time as an important theme. The past is a rich natural resource for most writers. We all have so many stories. It may be a factor that I have kept a journal since the 11th grade. I have volumes of close observations recorded throughout my life which give me access to memories I might otherwise have lost.

How did you arrive at the book’s structure? Many poets struggle with organizing a collection.

I consulted some of the same books and resources many poets do, though I found much of the advice to be contradictory, sometimes even within the same essay!

I did try one recommended system. First, I weeded out the weakest poems. With the remaining poems, I jotted down major themes and arranged them to speak to each other. I also thought about the physical shapes of the poems, things like putting shorter poems next to longer ones to vary the reading experience.

My poetry workshop group, the Grapevine Poets, with whom I meet twice a month, held a manuscript party once I had a draft. They provided helpful feedback. For instance, they advised that poems about the physical body be spread throughout the collection rather than located together. Still, much of that feedback was also contradictory so I had to go back and figure it out myself.

Ultimately, there’s no magic formula. A lot of it comes down to trusting your gut.

Can you talk about the long poems in Section II? Located in the center of the collection, in some ways they seem its very heart. To start, talk about “Where I Live.” That poem deals with place, place over time, and place from various perspectives— something woven throughout that comes to a crescendo there. What prompted you to write it? Did you write all six parts all around the same time?

That poem began in 2019 in an online Fine Arts Work Center workshop with Ed Skoog. It was a workshop on writing a long poem which is way out of my comfort zone. I discovered in this workshop, that if I was going to write a long poem, I’d have to do it in a series of shorter sections that would speak to each other.

I wrote four of the six sections in the workshop. Ed liked three but advised me to drop one and to write a new one, or to find an old poem on a similar theme and rework it to fit. I ended up taking two preexisting poems that were also on the theme of place, and home, and sense of home shifting, and I fit them in. But I also felt devoted to the section he saw as weak. I improved it, and it’s now the poem’s last section.

 “Body Songs” in Section II deals with a speaker’s body from childhood to young adulthood. That exploration of physicality (expanded to include birth, aging, illness, death) is evident throughout the book. Several poems such as “Prepping for the Colonoscopy,” “It’s Not Like I Need it Anymore,” “Thirst,” and “Another Poem about Menstruation,” speak truth about the body, especially the female body, with a wry sense of humor, all while examining existential concerns. Can you choose a body poem and tell me about writing it, what it means to you, and what you hope readers will take away from it?

I’ll talk about “Prepping for the Colonoscopy.” The “bodyness” of this poem is not about the colonoscopy itself but about the yuckiness of the liquid you have to drink in order to clear out your system. I literally had to put drops on my tongue and fling them back one at a time to get it down.

From there, it became a meditation on living in the moment. I began thinking about how we’re always thinking about the future. All the things we do when we’re counting: How many hours till we get where we’re going? How many more days until vacation? How many steps to the top of the hill? How many years till I can retire? There’s all this concentration on the agony of longing for the future, and I began thinking that one way to not worry about the future thing is to concentrate on the thing you must do this minute, no matter how distasteful. Maybe this is a mind-versus-body poem.

Because Persephone won an award (the 2022 Gerald Cable Book Award), I believe readers would like to learn about its journey from submission to selection to publication. Can you tell us how this worked? And how you chose the gorgeous cover art?

I sent the manuscript to 14 contests or open readings. I received five rejections before I learned of the award. I then withdrew it from the remaining eight places.

I submitted it for the contest in 2022 and got the good news in June 2023. That was a faster submit-to-acceptance timeframe than my chapbook had.

Upon selection, I worked on all the business things associated with publishing such as signing contracts. I am grateful to Rodger Moody who runs Silverfish Review Press as he consulted with me on every aspect of the book. He takes pride in what he publishes. He’s taken an active role in publicizing the book too. He sends it out for review, sends publicity emails and helps me approach people about readings.  I’m still in the midst of that.

He published the manuscript as it was, without any editing, though he said he sometimes does make suggestions. He also sent me the previous four winners’ books. That was generous and it gave me confidence in the final product. I liked the work of the poets Rodger had chosen and the books were beautiful, so I knew I was with a good publisher.

The story of the cover art is a fun and gratifying one. I didn’t have any idea of how to find something appropriate. My son did the artwork for my chapbook but he’s an illustrator and his style didn’t fit this book. Rodger and I went back and forth a bit before finding the right piece. When I saw a childhood friend’s artwork on her Facebook page (Robbyn Zimmerman Tilleman), I thought it might be suitable and Rodger agreed. We chose a piece, and I asked Robbyn, whom I hadn’t seen since the 1970’s, if we could use it. Happily, she said yes.

Some of my favorite poems are:

  • “Thirst” because it includes all you do so well. It travels through time, and deals with the body over time, and place over time. It captures the relationship of women to each other, women to children. It’s filled with color, taste, and texture, which serve as springboards to epiphany. And genuine emotion is at its core.
  • “High” because it’s short, compressed, and highlights the humor that’s an integral part of the collection.
  • “As if We Could Step Through Someone Else’s Dream” because its range and perspective is ambitious. It highlights the speaker’s desire, and ability, to see the world through others’ eyes, to look at herself from outside herself. It also weaves in art and pop culture.

Can you choose one and talk about your impetus and process for writing it?

I’ll talk about “Thirst.” This is another poem that came out of a Fine Arts Work Center workshop. This one was with Erin Adair-Hodges. The prompt was to take a line from a recent draft that hadn’t worked out and use it in something else.

The line I chose appears in the poem’s second part. I formed the rest of the poem around this idea, this awareness that our bodies age and change, yet in our minds we always feel the same age. My aunt, who was failing and in the hospital at that time, became the poem’s focus. I wanted to convey how it’s both tragic and absurd to be a consciousness in a mortal body. You are yourself, yet your body is breaking down.

The poem’s closing section was sparked by childhood home movies of me, my cousins, our families and neighbors at a hotel in the Catskills. There was a little swimming pool, and the parents were all in their twenties and thirties. They are all gone now, though when I wrote this, my mother and aunt were still alive.

As I prepared for this interview, I realized that some of Persephone’s other poems also came out Adair-Hodges’ workshop, including the title poem, “Persephone Heads for the Gate.” That prompt was to put someone from myth or folklore into a modern setting. I chose an airport because when I’m traveling by myself, it’s one of the times I feel most myself, independent in the world.

Do you have any last thoughts to share, or any advice to give poets aspiring to put a collection together?

Read a lot of poetry.  And write good poems!  I think of poems like soup. It’s important to let them simmer. Dashing things down and free associating can be a good start, but you need to revisit the draft later, and try different things. Get it to surprise you and do more work than a first draft does. I also want to thank South 85 for giving us this opportunity to introduce Persephone Heads for the Gate to their readers, and for publishing two of the poems that appear in the collection!

ABOUT

Merrill Oliver Douglas’s first full length collection, Persephone Heads For the Gate, won the 2022 Gerald Cable Book Award from Silverfish Review Press. She is also the author of the poetry chapbook Parking Meters into Mermaids (Finishing Line Press, 2020). Her poems have appeared in Baltimore ReviewBarrow StreetSouth 85 Journal, Tar River Poetry, Stone Canoe, Little Patuxent Review andWhale Road Review,among others. She lives near Binghamton, New York.

MORE INFORMATION:

Silverfish Review Press: https://silverfishreviewpress.com

Direct link to order the book: https://silverfishreviewpress.com/2022-gcba-winner-1

Merrill Oliver Douglas: https://www.facebook.com/merrill.o.douglas/  

Robbyn Tilleman (cover artist): https://www.instagram.com/tillemanart/ 

Mary Beth Hines: www.marybethhines.com

Spring / Summer Issue, 2023

Fiction

Awful Big, Awful Good by Matt Izzi
Dead Cats by Patrick Strickland
Living with Wolves by Christie Marra
Revisionist History 101 by Mike Herndon
The Loneliness Cure by Mark Brazaitis

Creative Nonficiton

I Remember by Linda Briskin
Marking Time and Place by Alice Lowe
Person. Place. Prey. Anyone. Anywhere. Anytime. by Honey Rand
To the South are Banana Plantations by Harris Walker

Poetry

a different sort of blues by Dana Tenille Weekes
biographies by David Galloway
Charisma came to me like a rubber doll by Susan Michele Coronel
How to Pick a Padlock by Patrick Wilcox
Most people have only one skeleton by Nadine Ellsworth-Moran
Magnolia by Greg Nelson
Mapping by Ellen Roberts Young
Roswell Mills: July 5, 1864 by Ann Malaspina
The Seagull that Melted by Kevin Pilkington
Uncle Bob Told Me by Christina Baumis
Yes, Fallen by Gordon W. Mennenga
Essays
The Dollmaker: Why You Should Have Read This Book Long Before Now by Jody Hobbs Hesler
Book Reviews
Fiction: The Woods of Fannin County by Janisse Ray, Review by John Krieg
Nonficton: Benjamin Banneker and Us by Rachel Webster, Review by Olivia Fishwick
Poetry: Through Our Water Like Fingers, a Review of Millicent Borges Accardi’s Quarantine Highway by Robert Manaster
Summer Issue Featured Image: SkyOceanBirds by Linda Briskin

Linda Briskin is a writer and photographer. She is intrigued by the permeability between the remembered and the imagined, and the ambiguities in what we choose to see. The fluidity between the natural and the constructed fascinates her. Her focus, then, is on inventing images rather than capturing them. Her photographs have been exhibited and published widely. https://www.lindabriskinphotography.com/

South 85 Journal

South 85 is Open for Submissions

South 85 Journal is excited to announce that we are open for general submissions until April 15, 2023. We consider all quality work and are especially interested in writing that demonstrates a strong voice and sense of place.
As the online literary journal for the Converse University Low-Residency MFA program, we are entering our 11th year of publication. Our editorial staff is comprised of experienced readers, writers, and editors who carefully consider every work of writing they receive.
We publish two issues online each year: the summer issue, which is published June 15th, and the winter “contest” issue–which features each year’s Julia Peterkin Literary Award winner–published December 15th.
We also nominate excellent works for the Pushcart Prize and the annual Best of the Net Anthology.
Past contributors include: Dustin Brookshire, Luanne Castle, Anthony D’Aries, Benjamin Garcia, Caroline Goodwin, Ann Chadwell Humphries, Justin Jannise, Eric Rasmussen, Katherine DiBella Seluja, Chris Stuck, and many more.
We published two stellar issues in 2022: The summer issue celebrating our 10th anniversary and the winter issue highlighting this year’s Julia Peterkin Literary Award winners and finalists in flash fiction and poetry. You can read them here:

Summer 2022: 10th Anniversary Celebration

Winter 2022: The Contest Issue

For more information and to submit your work for consideration, visit our Submittable page

Submit Here

Summer Poetry Contest: $500 Prize

The Julia Peterkin Award for POETRY:

South 85 Journal seeks submissions of previously unpublished poems of 50 lines or fewer for for the annual Julia Peterkin Literary Award for Poetry from June 1 to August 15 each year. The winning selection will receive $500 and publication in the Fall / Winter issue of South 85 Journal. Contest finalists will also be named and their work published alongside the winning selection.  Submissions are read blind by an outside judge.

This year’s judge is Ashley M. Jones.

Ashley M. Jones is Poet Laureate of the state of Alabama (2022-2026). She received an MFA in Poetry from Florida International University (FIU), where she was a John S. and James L. Knight Foundation Fellow. She is the author of three poetry collections: REPARATIONS NOW! (Hub City Press, 2021); dark // thing (Pleiades Press, 2019), winner of the Lena-Miles Wever Todd Prize for Poetry; and Magic City Gospel (Hub City Press, 2017), winner of the silver medal in poetry in the Independent Publishers Book Awards. Her poems and essays appear or are forthcoming in many journals and anthologies, including CNN, the Academy of American Poets, Poetry magazine, Tupelo Quarterly, Prelude, and The Harvard Journal of African American Public Policy, among others.

  • Submit up to three unpublished poems of 50 lines or fewer. 
  • All submissions will be read blind. Please do not include personal information on your manuscript or file. Submissions that include identifying information will not be considered.
  • The winning poem will be awarded a cash prize of $500.
  • Four semi-finalists will also be named and published in South 85 Journal.
  • Simultaneous submissions are accepted, but please withdraw your entry if your poem is accepted elsewhere. Partial withdrawals are allowed.
  • Multiple contest submissions will be considered as long as a separate submission fee is paid for each contest entry.
  • Work may be submitted in both Flash Fiction and Poetry categories as long as the submission fee is paid for each contest entry.
  • All winners must be over 18 years old and reside in the U.S. in order to claim cash prize.
  • Please use 12 point, standard font. We suggest Times New Roman.
  • We consider only previously unpublished work.
  • Current and former South 85 Journal staff members are not eligible for participation.
  • Current Converse College students and Converse MFA alum are not eligible for participation.
  • Results will be announced in October.
South 85 Journal does not publish work which has been previously published either in print or online. We acquire exclusive first-time Internet rights only. All other rights revert to the author at publication. Works are also archived online. We ask that whenever an author reprints the work that first appeared on our pages, South 85 Journal be given acknowledgment for the specific work(s) involved. Only the main contest winner will receive a prize.

Submit Here

[Lately when sorrows come]

by Susan Laughter Meyers

                                                —with a line from Sappho

Spring 2012

Lately when sorrows come—fast, without warning—
whipping their wings down the sky,
I know to let them.
Not inviting them, but allowing each
with a deep breath as if inhaling a wish I can’t undo.

Some days the sky is so full of sorrows
they could be mistaken for shadows of unnamed
gods flapping the air with their loose black sleeves:
the god of head-on collisions,
the god of amputated limbs,
the god of I’ll-dress-you-in-mourning.

Is the buzz in the August trees,
that pulsing husk of repetition, an omen?
I hear it build to a final shaking. I hear it build
louder and louder, then nothing.
Like a long, picaresque novel that’s suddenly over.
Like the last inning of kickball until the rain.

What falls from the sky is not always rain
or any kind of weather. Call it precipitous.
I’m fooling myself, of course. Wearing sorrow
is nothing like skin shedding water.
It’s more like the weight of a cloak of crows.

And yet the sun still shines on the honey locust
arching its fringe over grass. Lit, too,
the pasture and its barbwire strung from post
to leaning post. See how the stump by the road
is rotting and how the small yellow leaves, twirling,
catch light on their way to the ground.

Susan Laughter Meyers, of Givhans, SC, is the author of Keep and Give Away (University of South Carolina Press), winner of the inaugural SC Poetry Book Prize, the SIBA Book Award for Poetry, and the Brockman-Campbell Book Award. Her poetry has also appeared in The Southern ReviewBeloit Poetry Journal, and other journals, as well as Poetry Daily, and Ted Kooser’s American Life in Poetry column. Her blog is at http://susanmeyers.blogspot.com.

Humakind Needs Larger Birds

by Justin Jannise

Winter 2022

Humankind needs larger birds:
red-tailed hawks scaled up
to pterodactyl proportions;
twelve-story great white egrets,
spear-sharp bills puncturing
our roofs like giant stilettoes;
a helicopter hummingbird or two
always hovering, thirsty for us
to make just one wrong move.
We need more natural predators
to humble us into greater regret,
more meaningful action. We share
too little of the terrestrial burden
that camels, mules, and antelope
bear. Let the crow outgrow
our bomber planes. Let the great
horned owl outsmart us.
And let them be, as we are,
locked doors unto themselves,
their hearts grand ballrooms
of sinew and mystery, their brains
locomotive engines of synapse
and being their own worst enemy.

Justin Jannise is the author of How to Be Better by Being Worse, which won the A. Poulin, Jr. Poetry Prize and is forthcoming from BOA Editions, Ltd., in April 2021. His poems have appeared in Best New Poets, Best of the Net, Copper Nickel, Yale Review, and New Ohio Review. Recently a recipient of the Imprint Verlaine Prize in Poetry and the Editor-in-Chief of Gulf Coast, Justin lives in Houston, where he is pursuing his Ph.D.

Delta Summers

by Cody Smith

Summer 2016

So much of those summers scraped against cypress groves as we
paddled the pirogue and prayed against storms. The mud-bogged
Catahoula Lake bank would swallow James Larry’s pickup like
an egg in a snake’s throat. Days ended the same: heat showers,
catfish pliers and fillet knife in my hand, my father in his work
shop fumbling the knobs of an acetylene tank, him trying to talk
to me through the blue-pointed whirl of blowtorch, hunkering
down to his work, hood pulled over his face, his flame gutting
metal, labor and whatever wisdom I didn’t hear sifted through
the chokecherry, lifted crows from their perch in the red oak,
folded wasps and dirt daubers back into their nests while
momma and grandpa cooked yesterday’s catch in the fry shed
out back, the sizzle of cornmeal hitting grease, wet air battered
by fish musk, fried okra, the wild jasmine vine that ran the front
porch posts, and the lit citronella candles calling the dusk home.

Cody SmithCody Smith is a Louisianian studying poetry in the Northwest where he’s an MFA candidate at the Inland Northwest Center for Writers. He spends most days lamenting creole food, sea level, and humidity. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Louisiana LiteraturePermafrost, Glass Mountain, Cactus Heart, Belle Reve, among others. He is the editor-in-chief at The Swamp Literary Magazine.

Remnants

by Holly Day

Summer 2019

The snail shell lies on its side on the ground
empty save for a few dried curls of flesh, the weight
of something solid somewhere deep inside.

I place it in the middle of my palm, feel that sad, solid weight
what’s left of a snail tricked out of the shadows
by afternoon thunderstorms and cool, summer nights.

Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in Plainsongs, The Long Islander, and The Nashwaak Review. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press), In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I’m in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press).

Driving to the Blackberry Valley Transfer Station on Inauguration Day

Greenville, South Carolina, January 20, 2009

by Gilbert Allen

Maybe a seven-minute ride. Turns out
a lot of us white guys are here today,
pickups mostly, stuck with American flags
like Band-Aids over bumpers, back windows,
in honor of the history behind us.

Hauling two months of litter and beer bottles
from my blue luxury sedan, I must
appear to be a lost investment banker
hiding the bender he’s still getting over.
The guy beneath the HERITAGE NOT HATE
cap smiles. “Looks like you had yourself a time.”

He smells like he’s biodegradable.
I toss Buds into the dumpster, one by one,
so he’ll gimp off before my box is empty.

It works. It’s only me, as I repop
my trunk, and drag bag to the garbage bays
to fortify the artificial hill.
Mission Accomplished. Although I’ll be back,
sooner or later, with another load
of crap my cat and I want to be rid of,
filling what cavities our land still holds.

Gilbert Allen lives in Travelers Rest, SC, from where he frequently proceeds south (and north) on I-85. He’s the author of five collections of poems, including Driving to Distraction (Orchises, 2003), which was featured on The Writer’s Almanac and Verse Daily. Since 1977 he’s taught at Furman University, where he’s currently the Bennette E. Geer Professor of Literature.blog

High Noon at the Hopi Gas Station

John Nizalowski

Spring/Summer 2018

Reservation dogs
of uncertain breed
sleep in the gas
station parking lot.
A stiff hot wind
blows empty packs
of Camels, Hershey
bar wrappers, and
an empty Coors can
across the rippling tar.
Low, flat-bottomed
cumulous clouds rest
on the sky’s glass pane,
reflecting the red sands
of the desert below.

To the south, ancient
stone cities stand atop
narrow bluffs and solid
mesas. Old priests with
parrot feather staffs
celebrate deep, dusty
time in secret kivas.
Every day is a god,
each star a prayer.

While here at the station,
the register dials up the
cost in digital numbers –
99 cent Coke, three
dollars in corn chips,
and twenty-five in
gasoline – the smell
of colonial commerce.

 

John NizalowskiJohn Nizalowski is the author of four books: the multi-genre work Hooking the Sun; two poetry collections, The Last Matinée and East of Kayenta; and Land of Cinnamon Sun, a volume of essays. Nizalowski has also published widely in literary journals, most notably Under the Sun, Weber Studies, Puerto del Sol, Slab, Measure, Digital Americana, and Blue Mesa Review. Currently, he teaches creative writing, composition, and mythology at Colorado Mesa University.