Friday, June 28, 2019

Chrysanthemum Poetry Anthology 2020




Submit poems to Chrysanthemum Poetry Anthology 2020 by directly sending Word file to:

koonwoon@gmail.com

You can send up to five poems (under 60 lines each). 

There are no required themes, just send the best poems you have now, sort of reluctant to see them go like your child going away to attend college. You and they will be the better for it. 

Payment is one copy upon publication and extra copies at a discount. 

Wednesday, June 26, 2019

New book by Ivan Arguelles

New release from Goldfish Press

Ivan Arguelles is the winner of the William Carlos Williams Award and the American Book Award.

with an introduction by Jack Foley

Image may contain: one or more people and text

Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Resurrecting Chrysanthemum Anthology

We are resurrecting Chrysanthemum poetry anthology. Please send poems to or inquire at  koonwoon@gmail.com


Chrysanthemum 2020 anthology



Please send 3 - 5 unpublished poems to koonwoon@gmail.com
Deadline 12/31/2019   Please no multiple submissions
Reading time is less than 30 days. 
Payment will be one copy and additional at discount.

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

Wednesday, January 16, 2019

David Fewster ----- poem


REDISCOVERED MAUDLIN POEM DATED “FREMONT FAIR SUNDAY SUMMER SOLSTICE SALMON BAY PARK 2000” WRITTEN IN THE MARGINS OF A TORN-OUT STRANGER COVER AND FOUND IN A PAPERBACK EDITION OF LI PO THAT I STOLE FROM THE VASHON LIBRARY AROUND THE SAME TIME  

by David Fewster

Saw them get out of their Lexus
to pick up their 10 and 11 year-old daughters
fat, affluent, they were out of
a George Grosz painting,
hands on porcine hips, obviously giving the girls
a lecture on the American Way.
Disgusted, I bent back over my book,
a biography of the Marquis de Sade,
and surreptitiously took a slug
from my bottle of Hakusan saki,
fermented in the lovely Napa Valley,
and wouldn’t you like to try it
chilled?
I was interrupted by the sound
of elephants stampeding up a
mountain.
It was the couple,
each with a happy, childlike glint
in their eyes,
running toward the park restrooms.
“Geez, they must have to go
really bad,” I thought,
having been in that situation
15 minutes ago, but the bastards
in the Ballard Parks Dept.
had the damned thing locked,
even if it was Sunday at noon,
so I pissed in the bushes myself.
But no, they weren’t
there to piss—
their daughters soon
came up, and it was
obviously a game of
hide & seek, and the
look of joy had been from
the game and their love of it.
And I was abashed.
Where I had been
trying to find evil,
when the surface was scratched,
I only discovered
old hippies who
had not lost the
capacity for
having fun.

What the fuck’s
Wrong with me?

Chrysanthemum Poetry Anthology 2020

Submit poems to Chrysanthemum Poetry Anthology 2020 by directly sending Word file to: koonwoon@gmail.com You can send up to five poems...