Here Come the Blurbies!
And now we honor the poetry books of 2012 and the blurbs that adorn them. Ladies and gentlemen, we give you the Blurby Awards! BLURB OF THE YEAR “When I look out the window of my Winnebago I want to see a Sandra Simonds’ poem on the billboard before I crash. Bless her...
More German Idioms
We Germans are selfish at times and always desire to have the last word. In fact, adding our mustard to everything—not only to a delicious pork chop—is a typical trait. This is a follow-up to our previous post on German idioms. everything is in butter Don’t think twice about your figure if asked by...
Alice in Wonderland: A Musical Porno
Throughout our first year of publishing, we’ve noticed a few folks have stumbled upon our journal Googling the oddest of phrases. We’d like to commemorate these Internet searchers with a poem, composed entirely and verbatim from their queries. Perhaps in CalJoPo, they found what they didn’t even know they were looking for. Alice...
Tea Party Leader Betrius Lamp Slams Obama for Supporting Poet Marriage
Poets would like to get married in order to suffer enough to write Pulitzer Prize-winning books, but parachute out after their partners have burned them with cigarettes only five or six times. They do not understand that marriage is not about being happy or safe. It is about having children. We are proud to...
It’s the Blurby Awards!
It’s that time of year when we as a society look back at the previous year’s excellence and accomplishments in film, television, and music. However, one cultural field is often overlooked by critics—blurbs! That’s right, it’s time for the Blurby Awards, honoring excellence in blurb writing for poetry books. So without further ado, we at...
German Idioms
Be aware of the following idiom! If a German person ever calls you a bottle, don’t think you have a long neck or a nice figure. Being a bottle simply means that you’re a loser; perhaps we’re speaking of an empty bottle here. I recently moved to Austria to translate poetry on a Fulbright...
Found Poetry: Quinoa Salad in Blood
Sometimes poetry happens organically in the real world, far from the desks of poets, as in this menu from the Adams Avenue Grill in San Diego: Reading the first line, the reader begins to drool over the prospect of a savage, carnivorous meal—only to have expectations swiftly reversed in the next line. The...
