This small but noble venture begins in 1991 in Connecticut, with hand-printed limited-edition broadsides of original works by writers established and emerging. Two years later it goes on hiatus as the press relocates and regroups, reappearing last year in New York City. This time around, the press produces attractive little chapbooks under its three imprints: Fabula Rasa (with a focus on folklore), Funny Bones (works of light verse and humor), and Body Language, a series highlighting works that engage issues of gender and sexuality. Title one of this third imprint is the poetry chapbook written by Achy Obejas.
Legacies
The first time I was inside a woman,
I was confused.
I didn’t recognize her, or myself.
I thought I was swimming, but in air.
Maybe flying, underwater.
There are secrets only the body yields,
like vibration,
and kissing, a happy accident
between two women
who have already exhausted all words.
As of this year, the press will also publish two annual anthologies of queer verse: Best Gay Poetry, edited by Lawrence Schimel, and Best Lesbian Poetry, edited by Linda Alvarez. Queer poets, you can check their website for more information regarding deadlines, submissions, and the types of works they’re looking for.
What caught my eye was the art object of the chapbook. Glossy, perfect-bound, and measuring 6” x 4”, it fits comfortably on the palm of the hand. But the size and slight weight is deceptive since the series promises to be out, loud and Diva proud with its publication of poetry that makes no apologies about its queer content and context.
I was also glad to see Achy Obejas in print again. This lesbiana cubana is a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, author of that prose title with tickle, We Came All the Way From Cuba So You Could Dress Like This?, and the editor of the Akashic Press anthology Havana Noir.
This Is What Happened in Our Other Life is already a best-selling title on the independent press booklists, so get your copy while the supply lasts.
Historia de Amor
Ella no existía
cuando la otra se fue.
Después, no se enteró de su regreso.
Se vieron de casualidad.
Una cruzaba la calle,
la otra esperaba un carro.
Se imaginaron un beso
(más bien un roce de labios,
la mano en el vientre).
Siguieron
cada una por su camino.
Una miró hacia atrás.
La otra no.
I love the name of this press, that they’re queer friendly, and that they published fairy tales and double-dactylicly poems. I wish them the best!