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| Photo courtesy of beaboutitpress.tumblr.com. |
A chapbook is a piece of paper folded eight times. Nothing romantic about that. The beauty lies in its simplicity. Sometimes there are staples. Or stitching. The magic is its impermanence. The contents not intended to last forever. At best, a season. Or better, a few weeks, like strawberries. It’s a way of saying,
here’s what I’ve been working on lately—I thought you might be interested. Like a dispatch, a smattering of poems or stories from a small journey. Not the haunted house, but only the haphazard stone walk leading to it, or just a window where a brown recluse nestles one corner awaiting a fly.
