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2.10.2004

ANNOUNCING!
atticus/finch is pleased to announce the release of its inaugural chapbook, Cynthia Sailers’ Rose Lungs.

Rose Lungs  is printed in an edition of 100 copies with beautifully letterpressed covers (with the help of Kyle Schlesinger of Cuneiform Press), and here’s the best part: they’re actually affordable! That’s right folks, each is only FIVE DOLLARS!!

This is Sailers’ first collection, and bound to be a MAJOR contribution to a new generation of American Letters, so purchase now to avoid crying much later over a fittingly stale beer, or even sadder, in a rare books room somewhere in the Midwest, alone, wearing a pair of over-sanitized gloves, wishing you could take the thing home to put on your barren bookshelf! Sailers is the current curator of "The New Brutalism" reading series in Oakland, and her first full-length collection Lake Systems   (of which Rose Lungs   is independent) will be printed later in the year by Tougher Disguises.

If you aren’t familiar with Sailers' elegant lines, take a look below:

Constant Urbania
O rose lungs—Dominique Fourcade

Regarding tenderness I wasn’t prepared. She says this politely. She rose and was about to leave, you were not tending to—. I love her austere courtesy as well. By being third in line to see how her glasses broke and China dishes. She considers this. She considers the inane source of going. Uncertain of taking off her gloves she asks me to spit on the roses. For winter, spring, and summer. A borrowed coat and genius and terraces and husbandry and waterfowl and mongrels and watchfulness. Pleasure speaks: what can I do but say therefore. I walked the aisles a maiden form—this is my stay—the erotic in that I am chasing the winter down for free and claim the acreage soft. Constant Urbania sends this to me, desolate ladies now all alone. Yet for a more wondrous I, come close—wasted in desire my eyes prevail and reappear half empty for it.

Study From Life, 1889

How little I know of real pain. & yet inflicting the same on her as on objects themselves. I was longing to be tied up for civilization's sake. But there I was in the face of John Singer Sargent's girl with buttocks exposed. She is not to be mocked. Then she says, you bore me. You and pornography. Misanthrope, your only self-defense is in the crawlspace. (Faraway) in sea fog I thought better than to procure an inveterate narcissism. Barthes says, in Japan everything changes. Puzzling, I was an accident under blue sky yonder. " A supplement to palpable boredom." Unless it is reached through another field of bliss. The waters are murky, and when the wreck starts, each piece is a beautiful lie.



For RUSHED delivery, send five dollars (well concealed cash / check) to:
Michael Cross
atticus/finch chapbooks
SUNY Buffalo
306 Clemens Hall
Buffalo NY 14260

Act now and I will send along a nice bookmark. With it, you may mark your pages.

Rodney Koeneke sez:

'What we quixotics want are the facts,' and in Rose Lungs Cynthia Sailers gives us some seriously beautiful information. Her poems fuse lyric enchantment with an austere courtesy,' written as if in the voice of the astral double in a Victorian photograph. Sailers puts the desiring self through a lush stutter of pronouns that blurs the rip between they and it and her and I and you; her 'fidelity to reside in between' takes us to a place where philosophy's at home to the erotic and perception 'is reached through another field of bliss.' This is writing that makes the fin de siecle feel like a new beginning--'Pleasure speaks: what can I do but say therefore.'

Support small press publishing AND support emerging authors. All proceeds are directly recycled in order to publish new work that ought to be printed.

atticus/finch publishes chapbooks while they are fresh and urgent and circulating among a given community.
atticus/finch publishes chapbooks in smallish editions that even poets can afford.
atticus/finch publishes chapbooks that look nice on your bookshelf next to your Deleuze.
atticus/finch shares your philosophy, whatever that philosophy may be.

2.09.2004

Books I bought at the conference:

Robert Duncan's Copy Notes (Meow)

Dan Featherston's Doors (Paper Brain)

Ben Friedlander's A Knot is not a Tangle (Meow or Paper Brain)

A great paperback copy of Whitehead's Process and Reality (ready to be marked up)

A very old edition of Benjamin's Illuminations

Some Charles Peirce

Books I wanted:

John Wieners' Hotel Wentley Poems at the Bookery in Ithaca (too much!)

Books given to me (for which I am VERY grateful, Juliana!)

Juliana Spahr's Powersonnets

Another chapbook by Spahr in collaboration with a visual artist with whom I am not familiar, the title of which I can not recall

Camille Martin's Subpress book
Oh wow! The fun that was had at the Small Press Culture Workers conference in Ithaca this weekend!

We sledded! We fired firecrackers! I was beaten at chess by a nine year old boy! Badly beaten! I nearly broke my tailbone trying to sled down Jane's driveway! We drank! We talked abt. printing books and selling said books! I sold some books! I read poems at the Lost Dog Cafe! I hung out with the gals from Pom Pom (Allison and Jen) and Juliana Spahr and Brendan Lorber and Jonathan Kuzai and Charles Alexander and Kyle Schlesinger and Jonathan Skinner etc.etc.etc. We hugged! We kissed! We talked abt. print on demand and poetry syndicates! I met Josh Corey for the first time! I held Charles' beautiful Chax editions!

And Jane made it all happen! Hurrah!

2.03.2004

Haven't blogged in awhile. Sorry. New content coming soon. Lots going on! See you at the Small Press Conference in Ithaca on Saturday!

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