#bottlecap press
Blue Means Snow by Wheeler Light
Definitions feel nebulous. No two individuals can ever agree upon them. The fact that dictionaries exist remains a miracle for all. Even with those words recorded for all to see, most prefer blindness. Words, cadences, convey a whole new meaning one that becomes highly personal, like relationships are. Snow rarely has this feeling: snow is always cold. Rather beautiful from afar, up close snow…
“’Picture me / A field’s eruption / Collared to the city limits / Stomach knoll / Sidewalk cracks / & advancing subsidence / Aberrant growth.’ The foundation of In the House We Built is comprised of lawless ground and whetstone-sharp observations. In her latest book, Prairie M. Faul envisions herself as a building, an assemblage, a network—a life-form. A form-giver living it up in a contorting “home;” a word that sometimes takes at least four seconds to pronounce. Faul’s speaker is coffee-fueled and many limbed; breaking down walls and shattering language—all in an attempt to invent a new one. Stone-hard yet extremely playful, Faul is the exorbitant solo show no gallery space can contain. In fact, space itself is what’s up for debate. Authority, expertise, aesthetic purity. Fuck all that and Adam’s rib. This poet isn’t interested in purity, but pority.”
-from my review of prairie m. faul’s In the House We Built
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I am so excited to announce the publication of my first poetry chapbook from Bottlecap Press! Hotel Ghost discusses the relationship between lingering and dreaming. I wrote these poems over a period of two years, on and off, while working on another poetry project! Here and there, this little collection developed a voice and a shape. It was a bow and arrow. It was a crystal left out in the rain. It was a voice coming through wallpaper.
Preorder a copy here for just six bucks. Let’s be amazing. Read some poetry.
