on publishing the home of milk

Today is a beautiful spring morning. The wind hasn’t kicked up yet, the jasmine is blooming and wafting through my window. There is big news today! My new book is out in the world, making its way to peoples reading eyes. A thing to hold in hands, share with friends, and I am lucky to share it with you. The past number of years I have been writing poems many of them about home and with the right speed and care they turned into a chapbook, the Home of Milk. I can’t wait to share it with you!

There are a few ways you can have your own copy:

Buy a copy here! Take it the beach or on your bus ride to work. Enjoy it.

As readers of the re-enchantment if you’d like a signed authors copy sent just to you with an extra broadsheet of a poem and a couple other treats, you can get one here and you will also get a discounted subscription be part of the paid portion of this newsletter in celebration of the new book!

Soon there will be readings and events, I’ll share those with you as they emerge. I’d love to see you there to read poems together. You’ll be hearing more about that from me soon with snippets from the book along the way.

Outside the deer have delicately eaten each rose just as it is about to bloom.

The gopher traps of last week and not yet reset. The beans looks visibly bigger than yesterday.

The air is not quiet, it’s humming, hawk, crow, rooster, grass stretching in the dew.

For those of you who are here often you know I write about home often. I write about it because I think about it all the time. I think about who can call what home. Who home is shared with. The ways we make and unmake home for each other in all kinds of timescales. Or they have been writing me. And today I get to write about the chapbook winging it’s way out into the world.

These poems, they catch me when I least expect them. Sort of like something in my throat I felt one on Saturday as I watched my partner carry our half naked child all the way across a long windy beach littered with dried jellyfish after an accident. The sand is flying, there is poop. I am chasing them down the beach running alongside snowy plovers. They catch me at these funny moments, tender, ridiculous, human. Impossible. Sometimes I write them down.

The poems of the past few years, these collections of catchings are now out in the world. My debut chapbook is a chance to share this work and I’m thrilled to be publishing it with the good people at Bottlecap Press who are champions of chapbooks.

The book is called the Home of Milk. It wanders in and out of the territory of eroticism of early parenting, the calling in of home, the lumpy breakfasts, the siren calls of music when winter drags on forever. It is an invitation to come home to yourself and your life of poetry by inhabiting the here and now.

Thanks as always for reading!