Oct 16 2017

You there in the corner of the forest–

I am the singer of moss and black stones.

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Oct 16 2017

It is fitting that Shelley Marlow should be the inaugural writer for Prose Republik for a number of reasons, a) she’s an outstanding writer, and, b) as we rapidly approach the twin specters of Halloween and El Dia de los Muertos, it is right and proper that this author is a witch. So here’s to all you seekers and wanderers in realms not within our philosophy. If you’d like to share a story, a poem, or a calavera here outside the bounds of this dream within a dream, please do, if not, please enjoy…

The Wind Blew Through Like a Chorus of Ghosts

by Shelley Marlow (new work in progress)

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Aug 12 2017

Dylan Krieger’s collection, no ledge left to love, is the recipient of the Ping-Pong Free Press poetry prize of 2017, chosen by judge and poetry badass, Brian Henry. It is my extreme pleasure to share with you a sneak peek–one of my favorite poems out of this fascinating and essential collection, release date: December 1, 2017. Read More >

Jul 15 2017

CHRONIC

How I love the hospital

Gift shop—pocketing the penny

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Jul 1 2017

Skyscrapers and the dead.
Breath is exhaust fumes and dirt. Read More >

May 15 2017

The Life Fact Shines

Eleni, don’t drive so fast

˜˜˜˜˜˜ Read More >

May 14 2017

Are the children opening mouths like hungry saxophones
Clamoring for bread from my bread music? Read More >

Apr 2 2017
Feb 2 2017

Poet Republik Ltd. is happy to publish J. Hope Stein’s new collection of poetry, Occasionally, I Remove Your Brain through your Nose. No spoiler alert, but there’s something going on in this collection that is a kind of petroglyph for the times we are living through. These poems are original, experiential and vital. Read on…. Read More >

Jan 14 2017

How many ways of knowing can you think of? Sure, there’s the kind of knowing physically, emotionally, or psychologically, and then there’s a bird’s kind of knowing, or a turtle’s, or a girl’s. Here Joanna Penn Cooper invites you to explore a kind of knowing shared with scrawny trees as witness. And everyone knows what Shakespeare says about trees, they give many their ear, but to no one their voice. Read More >