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Sunday, November 20, 2016

Sympathetic Nervous System by Jackie Clark (free ebook PDF)

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In this case, the wide-page format (10 inches across in the original design) may make reading on a smart phone more challenging. For a print-ready version, use this link:

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Printed copies of this chapbook are sold out, but the full text will also be included in our six-in-one paperback chapbook compilation volume, BOUND: The Second Array (forthcoming).

We have several more free PDF chapbooks to release, very soon! There are several already available on our site.

Monday, November 14, 2016

Collage poems by Sandra Simonds (free PDF ebook)

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Sandra Simonds is the author of six books of poetry: Orlando (forthcoming, Wave), Further Problems with Pleasure (forthcoming, Akron), Steal It Back (Saturnalia), The Sonnets (Bloof), Mother Was a Tragic Girl (Cleveland), and Warsaw Bikini (Bloof). Her poems have been included in the Best American Poetry 2015 and 2014 and have appeared in many literary journals, including Poetry, the American Poetry Review, the Chicago Review, Granta, Boston ReviewPloughshares, Fence, Court Green, and Lana Turner. She lives in Tallahassee, Florida and is an assistant professor of English and Humanities at Thomas University in Thomasville, Georgia. 

This untitled chapbook of collage poems is an bonus addition to the 2016 series from Bloof Books. Handmade copies were created and distributed by the poet in September 2016, followed by this digital release by Bloof in November 2016.

ACCESSIBILITY STATEMENT: A text-only version of this chapbook with image descriptions is available on request. Please email info at bloof books dot com to request it. 

Bloof Books Chapbook Series

ISSN 2373- 1648 Online
This is the electronic edition
November 2016

We have several more free PDF chapbooks to release, very soon! There are several already available on our site.

Sunday, November 13, 2016

scenes from the lives of my parents by Pattie McCarthy (free ebook PDF)

It appears you don't have a PDF plugin for this browser, or are using a mobile device. Use the links below to download a copy. If you're using an iPhone or iPad, open the pdf in iBooks.

Get the PDF (791 KB)

Printed copies of this chapbook are sold out, but the full text is also included in our six-in-one paperback chapbook compilation volume, BOUND: The First Array.

We have several more free PDF chapbooks to release, very soon! There are several already available on our site.

Thursday, November 10, 2016

I Hate Telling You How I Really Feel by Nikki Wallschaleger (free ebook PDF)

It appears you don't have a PDF plugin for this browser, or are using a mobile device. Use the links below to download a copy. If you're using an iPhone or iPad, open the pdf in iBooks.

Get the PDF (1 MB)
Color cover & interior

Since these poems are designed to be memes, we have also released them individually as .jpg files. Please feel free to share them, with credit to Nikki (and a link where possible).

Meme .jpgs for sharing (500–650 KB each)

And remember: Nikki's book of sonnets, Crawlspace, is forthcoming from Bloof in Spring 2017! More about that here.

Printed copies of this chapbook are sold out, limited to a run of 150 copies released earlier this year. We may have limited swag from this book (posters, postcards, etc.) as we approach the release of Nikki's new book.

ACCESSIBILITY STATEMENT: A text-only version of this chapbook with image descriptions is available on request. Please email info at bloof books dot com to request it. 

We have several more free PDF chapbooks to release, very soon! There are several already available on our site.

Wednesday, September 14, 2016

EMPIRE WASTED by Becca Klaver

Empire Wasted
now available!

We are thrilled to bring you this perfect-for-an-election-year-at-the-end-of-the-world new book from one of our favorite poets, Becca Klaver.

"Empire Wasted is an astonishing book, anthemic in its catchiness and the power of its arguments. From the suite of 'Decade Zero,' the years so vacant they don’t even have a name, and the concomitant attraction of the very dreariest productions of the 90s, through to the neo-di Prima fervor of the revolutionary letters, it hits all the right notes." —Kevin Killian

Preorder for $12 + free shipping. That's $7 off. (Reg. $16 + $3 shipping.) 
$16 + $3 shipping

Plus, the first 50 orders come with a limited-edition postcard set featuring poems and excerpts from the book.
Becca Klaver is the author of the poetry collections LA Liminal (Kore Press, 2010) and Empire Wasted (Bloof Books, forthcoming 2016), and several chapbooks. She's the cohost of the Real Wives of Bohemia podcast with comedian Lauren Besser, and the curator of a new series of Tiny Talks currently underway at Berl's Brooklyn Poetry Shop. (More.)

One of the limited-edition postcards


Think of the empire waist as a dress with a lot of breathing room, in which the body can move within ample space while still remaining hidden. A comparably generous poetics suffuses Becca Klaver’s Empire Wasted, a collection that aims to fashion for the world new space to move inside. Using technology as an instrument to stitch together materials as disparate as tweets and autobiography, this book pays homage to schools it has inherited while thrusting dizzyingly into its own brainy vortex.

Empire Wasted metabolizes the twentieth century into the fashionable neons of a numbing regime. In a fit of collage, the Internet speaks from its most comfortable of media troll outfits, Manhattan gleams in apocalyptic shine and false prophecy, and the 90s deploy a feminist artillery of bell-bottoms, Discmans, and snapping barrettes. As readers, we witness a poetry that shimmies away from its capitalist, patriarchal heirs in favor of a feminist documentary lyric, a poetry that opts to stay in its room all night with Frank O’Hara, Bernadette Mayer, and Reality Bites rather than reenter the party booming below.

Sample poems 

From "Decade Zero"at Sink Review

Announcement! We're doing another book with Peter Davis in 2017.

The future rocks so hard. BAND NAMES by Peter Davis is joining CRAWLSPACE by Nikki Wallschlaeger on our 2017 list, scheduled for fall. More about this to come!

Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Jennifer L. Knox in NYC: May 31, June 1 & 2

Tuesday, May 31: New York, NY / 7:00 p.m.
Jennifer L. Knox, Ada Limón & Jason Schneiderman Bryant Park Reading Room Avenue of the Americas between 40th & 42nd The Reading Room is on the 42nd side of the park (look for the burgundy umbrellas) Bryant Park Events Calendar
Wednesday, June 1: New York, NY / 7:00 p.m.
Jennifer L. Knox, Laura Sims & Carey McHugh Pen & Brush 29 East 22nd Street Facebook Events Page Series Events Calendar
Thursday, June 2: Brooklyn, NY / 7:00 p.m. Sharon Mesmer, Jennifer L. Knox, Natalie Eilbert & Jason Schneiderman Berl’s Brooklyn Poetry Shop 126A Front Street, DUMBO Events Calendar

Monday, May 16, 2016

SOLD OUT: Exercises in Painting by Khadijah Queen

Exercises in Painting
Khadijah Queen

SORRY, this chapbook is sold out. Free ebook version coming soon.

Hand-sewn in natural twine
Natural White Felt Textured 80# Cover, full-color inkjet
Natural Smooth 70# Text Interior, b&w laser jet
5.5 x 8.5
24 pages

Bloof Books Chapbooks Series
Volume 3: Issue 5 (2016)
ISSN 2373-163X

>> Limited to 100 copies <<

Additional shipping is required for international orders. Please email us at sales at bloof books dot com to place international orders.

A photo posted by Bloof Books (@bloofbooks) on


__________________ after dreaming that hungry women may resort to violence 
An all-woman riot in the wilderness &
chained vultures & wolves smell the brawl
from their caves & forests policing, by force
of habit wanting everything for themselves
but the women channel a raging
feast, raining from the sky &
pushing up from the ground, so the animals
only end up eyeballing
bits of sky between the dull cloud of rank
wings & bared teeth

"__________ my loved blacknesses & some blacknesses I knew" at Poetry

Three more from the chapbook at Dreginald


Khadijah Queen is the author of four books, most recently Fearful Beloved (2015), and four chapbooks. In 2015, The Relationship theater company staged her verse play, Non-Sequitur, in NYC as part of the Leslie Scalapino Award for Innovative Women Performance Writers, with publication by Litmus Press. Individual poems appear in Brooklyn Magazine, Tin House, Fence, jubilat, Best American Nonrequired Reading, Powder: Writing by Women in the Ranks from Vietnam to Iraq, and widely in other journals and anthologies. Her fifth book, I’m So Fine: A List of Famous Men & What I Had On, will be published by YesYes Books in spring 2017. She is core faculty for the low residency Mile-High MFA program at Regis University.

Cover painting: Untitled (2010), Khadijah Queen

Exercises in Painting is the fifth chapbook in the 2015–2016 series from Bloof Books. Each chapbook in the series is released in a limited edition of one hundred numbered copies, followed by a digital release, and eventually in a combination volume called Bound.

Saturday, May 7, 2016

Process Pamphlet #1: Censored Interview, CAConrad interviewed by Jasmine Platt


This is an unscheduled flash project—when we heard this piece needed a home we jumped at the chance & completed the editing/design in about ten hours. Preorder to reserve a copy if you want the printed chapbook. (The digital releases are free.) We don't know how many of these there will be. Right now we're not putting a cap on the print run.

The Library of Congress* Censored Interview

CAConrad interviewed by Jasmine Platt

*Not published by the Library of Congress

Prose / Poetics
Bloof Books Process Pamphlets #1

May 2016
5 x 6 inches, hand trimmed
Mohawk i-Cream Eco Tone Cover
Inkjet-printed with Avery label** & Sharpie
Laser-printed Mohawk Natural Smooth 70lb Text interior
Saddle stapled
16 pages | $3*

THIS CHAPBOOK IS SOLD OUT, but the free ebook versions are linked below.

*$1 from each printed copy sold will be donated to LAMBDA LEGAL ( for their tireless battle to protect LGBTQ people in the United States. (They are not affiliated with the press or this project, except as our designated beneficiary for donations.) The other $2 covers materials & postage.

**Cover label may vary in color across the print run

FREE SHIPPING is for US/Canada only. Additional shipping is required for international orders. Place international orders via PayPal (Square will not accept them), and we will email you with details (and if you don't like them, we will refund). The extra postage would eat into what we're able to donate to Lambda Legal.


"This is a call to poets to stand together and vow to never change what we write and what we say when any part of the government body asks this of us." 
"No matter how many poems I write I cannot undo my complicity, I cannot reverse the sea of gravestones, and my poems will never be an apology worth a single life taken by our collective national ignorance, greed and irrational fear." 
"We need as many people being creative right now as possible because it is the creative people who will solve the problems facing the survival of our species."


"It appears that the Library of Congress asked CAConrad to participate in a new interview series with poets, only to turn around afterward and decline to run the piece! Lucky for us, and not so much for LOC, Shanna Compton at Bloof Books as published The Library of Congress* CENSORED INTERVIEW, as it is now titled, as a full printed chapbook. Compton has also made the publication available as a free download.

"Conrad’s conversation with Platt is unsurprisingly straightforward about the realities of being a citizen–much less a poet–in a climate of injustice, war, and unrest. Conrad also speaks to how somatic practice affects his poetry, what it means to speak through character (as in The Book of Frank), what a vision for queer poetry might look like, and more."


CAConrad’s childhood included selling cut flowers along the highway for his mother and helping her shoplift. He is the author of eight books of poetry and essays. The latest, ECODEVIANCE: (Soma)tics for the Future Wilderness (Wave Books), is the winner of the 2015 Believer Magazine Book Award. He is a Pew Fellow and has also received fellowships from Lannan Foundation, MacDowell Colony, Headlands Center for the Arts, Banff, and Ucross. For his books and details on the documentary The Book of Conrad (Delinquent Films, 2016), please visit

Jasmine Platt lives in the melodic belly of the word. She is an English Writing graduate of Boise State University, with previous membership to both the University of Maryland’s MFA program and to the Poetry and Literature Center of the Library of Congress. At present, she is a librarian pursuing a career in public arts administration. She also pursues bones, aspen leaves, and the cynical crashing of the waves. She lives in Idaho.


The Library of Congress Censored Interview is the inaugural volume in a new (and probably irregular) Bloof Books handmade series called Process Pamphlets.

This chapbook is being simultaneously released in free e-book & PDF formats. You may SHARE, COPY & REDISTRIBUTE this pamphlet for *noncommercial purposes* with attribution to the authors and


PDF print (as pages) 
PDF print (as spreads)  
PDF interactive (clickable links, as pages) 
PDF interactive (clickable links, as spreads)

ePub (reflowable) 

(I'm not putting up a .mobi file since they have not been widely used in the past. However, if you read on a Kindle and want it that way, I will. Just comment or send me a note. —SC)

Sunday, May 1, 2016

SOLD OUT: I Hate Telling You How I Really Feel by Nikki Wallschlaeger

I Hate Telling You How I Really Feel

Nikki Wallschlaeger

Full-color interior on 80# text with gloss
Cardstock cover in Antique Gray Linen
Hand sewn
5.5 x 6 inches
28 pages + 4 text panels printed inside fold-out cover

Bloof Books Chapbook Series
Vol. 3: Issue 4 (2015)
ISSN: 2373-163x
  SOLD OUT: August 2016  
A free PDF version is coming soon

I Hate Telling You How I Really Feel is the first graphic chapbook from Bloof Books, and the fourth in the 2015 series, containing 25 full-color photographs, plus 2 supplementary text pieces by poet-artist Nikki Wallschlaeger.

Trifold design includes introductory text on front flap and inside cover. Another text piece is printed at the inside back cover. The full-color 28-page photo booklet is hand-sewn into the cover. Expands to 16.5 inches wide when fully opened.

A selfie-by-proxy sequence of sorts, each portrait of the Julia doll (Mattel, 1969–1970, after the television series starring Diahann Carrol) combines the ultra-condensed gravitational effect of Wallschlaeger's poetry, the hyper-consumability of the internet meme, and a Warholian pop-art palette of color, repetition, and cultural reference.


Each chapbook in the series is released in a limited edition of one hundred numbered copies, followed by a digital release, and a year-end combination volume called Bound

About the author

Nikki Wallschlaeger is the author of Houses (Horse Less, 2015), and the chapbook I Would Be the Happiest Bird (Horse Less, 2014). She is currently at work on a book of sonnets called Crawlspace, some of which can be found in the Brooklyn RailFanzineElective Affinities, the Account, the Inquisitive Eater, and elsewhere.

Saturday, April 30, 2016


your head
for beauty
you were throwing rocks for so, so long
your body became
complete action
destruction           nobody is trying to harm you
yesterday was bad to all of us
it didn’t discriminate
anyhow the fabric is the same
the blanket covers all of us
some parts are old
and just see-through
if I were you I would
bury some things
practice the long wait for them to pop up again
in the meantime
hold the expectation
they are there to grow, feed 
or live for a while
with all of us
all of us

Friday, April 29, 2016


In my new driver’s license picture I look dead. Blue like I was just fished out of a lake. I was sad with the idea that people think they know who you are on the inside, when they know who are you on the outside. Who hasn’t thought about dying a lot? The picture was taken on a day I thought I was recovered. The hours passed without deep consideration of whether I should be here on the planet. I was kind struck by how happy the people were at the DMV on a sunny Saturday. The anger babies we bear are always crying, always batting out their needs. “Your whole face changed,” the lady said, after I smiled for the picture. “2-4 weeks. You’ll get it in the mail.” “You are so efficient,” I said. “We try, thank you, we try.”

Thursday, April 28, 2016


come give me a home
tired of the made up memory
of how things went
when they didn’t work out

come give me a home
scratching at the end of April
telling it to be over already

for the jasmine to liven the sidewalk
for the steps of the apartment to lean
a little less

come give me a home
come give me a home

Wednesday, April 27, 2016


have the patience to accept the delusions of others
they don’t make
anything possible
but they exist
for me, 7:30 in the morning is as
good a time as any
to tell myself:
keep going backwards
until you find the nest
where you created
a stable cradle
before people
came in and fucked it up

Jen's for 27


Tuesday, April 26, 2016


the end of the day regardless
your rude mind tasking
the price of cookies at safeway
where you want to go
for the mandatory vacation you had hoped
to spend with a lover
the theory behind it
the delusion created
most people
busy on rabbit trails, cooking meals for the week, fixing cars
while some parents astutely respond
to their bad children, “who do you think
you are?”

Monday, April 25, 2016

Jen's for Day #25



__________ never comes
we go to the grocery store
tired of ticking on another
timeline                     magic doesn’t give
the viewer too much credit
to wow, to appear
is normalized            some bright freezer aisles
go dim with no one in them

Sunday, April 24, 2016


we are our own buildings
stability a basic body function
ankles, knees, hips, shoulders
but the drinking water isn’t safe for drinking
frantic, but not without foundations when we are
without others
I learned to give time to the hesitant
to distinguish between pain
and suffering, one possessed by an agent
powerful and invisible beyond control
despite everything about our childhoods
we exported already

Monday, April 18, 2016


even with change the blue blue mountains continue to be blue
the sidewalks stay bumpy
the ground underneath
demands freedom
and cars and people are unreliable as you expected
don’t let it ruin you, ranges from which we pull averages
can be quite large
our human problem is housing understanding
for these wrenches
when do they teach us
to let go of suffering?

Sunday, April 17, 2016


what meaning you 
choose to owe 
to people
is on you
you listen
like not listening
mother nature has a plan
for surrealism
to open you up
like the world of egg sandwiches
made eggs make sense
but you still didn’t “like” them

Saturday, April 16, 2016


what deal
really pulls
the room together
don’t farm criminals
care anymore
what to
expect when you’re
expecting, if you move alone 
be part bullish
do you really think
command answers
not hysteria
it erased you
part blah blah
and yesterday

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Hours of Opening

 My students are much more open to experimenting with the space of the line than I am. And it’s because they’re better poets. I tell them to write work I would only dream of writing. I lied this week and told them I had written a poem about a special object from my childhood in order to gird them into writing with their objects in mind. The Owl and The Pussycat, the famous Edward Lear nonsense poem, recapitulated as an illustrated book by Hilary Knight, is back in my possession. Every page arranges the scope of an idea’s transition into image and back again. I don’t think I’ve ever been alive. Daily I pass a Polish beer garden and the sign reads, “Hours of Opening” as if the structure were a great plant astonished by its breathing. I walk by the same man in his cubicle forever leaning over to consider his calendar. There is no context for anything we do. As my mother tells it, I used to read The Owl and the Pussycat to my younger brother upside down so that he could read the images. Why does it feel like my life started when I arrived at the foot of a bed. I would read the words upside down but I was reciting. Around this time I killed my older brother’s fish by filling their tank with too much food. The flakes formed a film over their lives and shadowed them to death. As I understand it, recitation is a kind of overfeeding. It is important to connect the girl’s scarf with the growth of the girl’s tail, the shapely feline overtaking the girlflesh, how the shape overthrew its captor is how I first learned to starve. When he lay me down and when he lay me down and when he lay down my neck was the noose around my neck. It was easy to imagine being taken in a boat to elsewhere, freedom became a talisman I stroked to keep me animal. Chronology is a denture and the landscape removes me from its mouth, I the viscous silver string drooping to silk in the parabola. No one has ever sworn they’d change for me. They see I have already brimmed with the blades of my childhood and I’m done for. They see that I have learned to sleep with gold insects swarming my legs. And when I close my eyes, I cannot, for the life of me, ignite. 

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Rhythm Thirteen

 Never put value in a belief. All I do is repeat.
I’m astonished by every mouth I’ve had. An orange
pushed down my throat. This afternoon I left
the office to run in line. My discipline is straight.
A crystal falls through me. Fiber drips down my chin
as I assess the world smashed into me. I ran 
in a line to a window. Every object on its side
looks like a beached whale. I think the problem
with scene is my death can’t fit inside it. I’m hurt
by narrative, the promise of humans to be their verbs.
The times I’ve been intellectual, my lips were wet.
I pantomime in the pretty gloaming of my youth
and push myself through a disc so I don’t have to look
anyone in the eye. I need more space. I repeat.
I lay down in the road as a girl because I wanted
someone to stop me like no one stopped him.
Because the car never came, they called me 
an attention whore. I’m relearning inventory
to repeat myself better. Tonight, Paul said the word 
ichor in their poem. I can still feel the god blood
melting through the snow. My landscape flattens
to one without snow, without rain, without land.
I draw the word ichor in the steamy mirror. It drips.
I splash the glass with bleach. It drips.


the night grew
collectively best friends with normal
wrapped up in a blanket
were the discounts, oiled aches, “theories”
the city unfolds its fist
the fist has been rolled into itself and is
in systemic ways an attachment
that can’t be undone
no matter the manners of night

Tuesday, April 12, 2016


hello monday mask
the coincidence of pain
promise you won't retaliate
drive home in another car
there have been people here before
they have been capable
of the same yes and the same no
how's the afternoon for you?
are you in danger now? 
or hanging out ---coffee or whatnot?

Saturday, April 9, 2016


Ghosts are actors and their parts are forgettable     It isn’t intentional but poets are made by belittling      How to stop this from happening is the struggle of allowing mistakes to be not such a big deal          Crossing the street has become a way of communicating buried anger at different forms of transportation      farming out our responses to gesture which other people understand even though they pretend not to

Girl to Complete a Portrait

I can already see the way I presume teenagers are too un
formed to make decisions but I remember my destruction
well. I masturbated to the livejournal community _nakedparts,
a blog made of livejournal users who showed off various
quality photos of their naked bodies. There was a beautiful
woman naked and splayed against a tree, her butt in full
bloom. Spiky blurs of genitals. It could never be fully
satisfying, which was the greatest arousal of all. I read comments
and the tiny wars winnowed in the flesh grids. A man 
commented on a woman’s vag shot, Shave. Another man
condemned the comment, because her full growth was hers.
I was 14, believed feminism to be an older, won battle
despite my body’s multiple invasions and the natural silence
expected. The silence was a tautology and I needed its shape.
Everyone loved a winner and to speak was to lose. So I touched
my naked parts to the safety of a flat screen. I fantasized
posting, amazing the community with my firm figure.
I learned I was desirable when a stranger at the mall threw me
over his shoulders and ran with me screaming to his sedan.
My friends stopped him. Everyone laughed. I was 13
and knew to cry meant I was a prude. I swallowed terror.
I knew I was desirable when Ryan, 21, kept grabbing my butt
in the food court. Everyone laughed. When he found out
where I lived. Got me into the car and led me away.
I show my students Mary Ruefle’s essay, “I Remember, I Remember,”
and she has written “I remember saving everything” after
saying she never did like to save things. Last night I dream
my apartment suffers an electric fire, the second fire of my life.
My landlord screams that I’ve ruined her beautiful house
and she is right. I mastered cateyes. In HS, wrote Chuck Palahniuk
fanfic. My best friend returned from college and said L
drugged and raped him. He slid his hand up my knee, in a gesture
I’ve never allowed myself to understand. My other best friend
fought three women at the mall, ripped out a hoop earring
and kept it on her nightstand with her bracelets. I learned
I was desirable when I used textbooks to cover my butt
in the halls. When S taught me skinniness required a finger
and vigilance. A student comments on Bhanu Kapil’s “Text
to Complete a Text” that she is having difficulty articulating
its genre. Risk is a kind of twin of permission, says Bhanu.
I woke up this morning stunned by the confidence we have
in our houses. There is a belief about houses that is in line
with our capacity to live, that they are upright, secure, impenetrable.