i built a boat with all the towels in your closet, by Leia Penina Wilson
May18

i built a boat with all the towels in your closet, by Leia Penina Wilson

i built a boat with all the towels in your closet (and will let you drown), winner of the 2012 To the Lighthouse Poetry Prize. Judge:  Evie Shockley Buy this Book Leia Penina Wilson’s i built a boat with all the towels in your closet (and will let you drown) is at once a love ballad and a warning. These poems are—at their simplest—about relationships, sex, love, creatures, different kinds (and degrees) of violence, and—at their...

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Interrobang by Jessica Piazza
Aug19

Interrobang by Jessica Piazza

 Interrobang, winner of the 2011 To the Lighthouse Poetry Publication Prize Judge: Eloise Klein Healy Interrobang is a collection of mostly sonnets that play with various clinical “phobias” and “philias.” Jessica’s stunning, playful, dark, and haunting poems illustrate how “even the worst-case scenario of these pathologies are, fundamentally, just extensions of the dark truths to which every one of...

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Leia Penina Wilson Awarded 2012 To the Lighthouse Prize
Dec15

Leia Penina Wilson Awarded 2012 To the Lighthouse Prize

The winner of our 2012 To the Lighthouse Poetry Publication Prize was Leia Penina Wilson’s “I built a boat with all the towels in your closet.”  Selected by guest judge Evie Shockley, the book will be released by Red Hen Press in fall of 2014. Leia Penina Wilson spends most of her days baking tiny cakes and cookies. On the days she’s not baking, she plays Magic the Gathering and cuddles with her boyfriend on...

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“Crossing,” by Branden Boyer-White
Jul01

“Crossing,” by Branden Boyer-White

When Clara first saw him Virgil reminded her of a horse. He was tall, two hands above the other men in the street; he wore his working life on his body in the strength of his upright back, the stomp of his gait. Wind and sun marked the skin of his cheeks. The War was over, the Union had won and men were returning from the battlefields ready to make a life. But this man was not a soldier. He had a wagon that Clara watched him hitch to...

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“Write this Down,” by Amy Silverberg
Jul01

“Write this Down,” by Amy Silverberg

I’m on the phone with my best friend, while she dumps her boyfriend over e-mail. I am dictating what to type, and I hear the keys click in another state, me holding on the line while she breaks a heart. She lives by the beach, my friend, and at times I think I can hear the water in her voice, frothy and transcendent. I know, because I once lived there too. Time passes differently by the beach, sometimes not at all, because sun and...

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