Gunpowder Mouth Press aims to publish chapbooks of poets who are amazing, writers who are trying new things (no, not like ee cummings), writers who are original, writers who have obvious unpolished talent (must appreciate strong editors), writers who dig our master plan.
Our mission is to make books in which every piece remains authentic to its original intent, however subtly. Using the writer’s vision for the project, our editorial and design processes further develop that vision into the book’s complete identity. Your finished book will be a tactile representation of your vision. And probably easy on the eyes too.
Gunpowder Mouth Press is a figment of the Editor’s imagination. It doesn’t really even exist in the tactile world yet. The waiting is giving us those nightmares again, the ones in which we are tall and red and strong, but always wake screaming.
We imagine it will be smallish and neatish and either tied with second-hand ribbons or stapled on the wrong side and titled with a sharpie. We can’t wait to find out. We do know, however, that it will (just barely) contain:
- schoolyard fisticuffs
- a lucky red marble
- xylophone melodies
- those trembling hands on your last button
- illegal fireworks
- a handful of fat, bright crayons
- and that look in her eye when she said that terrible thing
Issues will vary. Could also contain a selection of vanilla sex positions, that smell you are never sure is mildew, behind-the-knee fear sweat, and a smattering of grab-bag goodies like endangered colors, misused words, psychological disorders (degrees of repression may vary), tactless imitations of famous poets…and love, of course, in one if its many interpretations, reflections, or manipulations.
We are not a small press. We are a tiny press, almost a figment of your imagination. Almost. So incredibly wee that “we” is only three, mostly. Jessica Dawson. Heather Brager. Wino Sandbar. We’re your would-be Editors, those wish-upon-a-star, shadowy figures behind the curtain. We’re in the margins, and creating them.
Well, you expected that now, didn’t you?