it is the sixth of July and i am still
feeling patriotic. and i wonder if this
big old oak has as many leaves as
how many soldiers died so someone
could grow in its privacy.
For it is Vague
i wonder that i left the sink running,
but it is cicadas come to make
wraiths of rain gas that woke me rise
like shades, gray-violet plumes exiting
a childs perfect soul, really cools
it is your usual morning and all, but there
is a new moon, and it is a force you
i blur my eyes on the wall before my bed
and feel nothing clearly. it only lasts a
beat of wings.
Bree is a poet and artist in Pleasureville, KY. She has a forthcoming manuscript from Birds & Bones Press, called I Am Also Invasive(Fall 2016). She is the recipient of an artist enrichment grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women for 2016.
Sun like a yellow scroll
rolls out to summon us.
your approach is so
fresh tracks. but its not
magenta & violet pastures
im after. the hawk has not
even got its red tail yet.
and you close your mouth
to me again. i am no scarlet
corn husk on the greening
path deer take to your
patch of fiddleheads.
your streamy looks
turn algae to stone
and back again,
if i take you right,
youll be making your
landing in my downy
thighs. if left, it shall
be in sun guise. we see
the same birds because
we have the same eyes.
Bree is a poet and artist in Pleasureville, KY. She received an artist enrichment grant from the Kentucky Foundation for Women for 2016. Her latest book is This Dark Junco Morning and can be bought by emailing email@example.com or on evil amazon.
i cant remember the last time we made love
or who was doing who
it felt rotational like the large hand of a clock close to midnight
look now it’s 11:56
then we 11:57ed & 11:58ed
until the siss bang boom of the midnight hour
i should have appreciated more
it has to have been 18 months
wouldn’t you say
although i think you don’t/can’t remember such things as
busy as you are in sobriety & blessedness
oh & cooking
while i have nothing to occupy my mind but memories
the time we pulled over on artsmith trail
in broad daylight
front seats collapsed
people walking their dogs a few yards from our breathless sex
oh that’s right
you dont remember those drunken fumblings in unzippered pants
now a zipped up memory
you are recovered
while i am uncovered
naked in want
like an alcoholism of lust
“I” from I Hate Love series, one drawing per letter of the series name. Bree 2016
Christina Quinn lives in Fort Pierce, Florida. She paints, writes, travels and loves broccoli… check out some of her art.
Bree edits Least Bittern Books and Green Panda Press, aspires to draw well and has written books of poetry for miles.
Bree is an artist and poet in farmland KY. She got a visual arts grant from the Kentucky Foundation of Women for 2016. She is founder and editor of Green Panda Press, which has been making mostly handmade books, broads and sundry of the small press since 2001.
Poets in the Pondis a supreme collection of poetry by Mary E. Weems, Prerna Bakshi, Tom Kryss, John Swain, Bree, Tiffany Tavella, Katie Curtz, Paul Corman-Roberts, Joseph M. Farley, Rob Dakin & William Taylor Jr.
These poets voices are what set the bar for poetry being submitted to Least Bit.
A collage portrait of each poet emerging from a pond precedes their work in the book.
It is a 6×9 100-page trade paperback, and will be available on Kindle as well (for 2$).
Prerna Bakshi portrait by Bree
Tom Kryss portrait by Bree
This is the first Least Bit anthology. Poets who are turned on by the work they find inside are encouraged to send their own best work anytime to firstname.lastname@example.org
order at link above, or send $14 cash/check to Bree 147 Marcus St. #4 Pleasureville, KY 40057
Least Bittern Books founder and editor Bree has released a book of her growth as a self-taught visual artist, from graphic design and rough drawings for her Green Panda Press (Cleveland 2001-still pressin’ on) to more sophisticated studies of landscape, textual plays, mythology, cultures real & imagined and the nude form.
Do Well of Must is part of her Kentucky Foundation of Women’s Artist Enrichment grant project for 2016. The book is 50 pages full color 8.5×8.5″ trade paperback, and includes a personal narrative of Bree’s recalibration in farmland, KY after her faith had been tried, when magic became as integral to her being as drawing.
if you would like a copy, visit the Amazon link above, or use coupon code 2SQK26ZH ofr $5 off here or send 25$ to email@example.com via paypal using the friend/family option, or at long last, check/cash to Bree 147 Marcus St. #4 Pleasureville, KY 40057
Mary E. Weems is a Cleveland, OH poet, play-write and educator, and winner of the 2015 ClevelandArts Prize Emerging Artist Award for Literature. ‘Aging’ and other of her poems will be in a forthcoming Least Bittern Books anthology (2016).
(illus. by Bree, a Pleasureville, KY poet and artist and the founder of Green Panda Press).
Ginger follows me, which i think bad luck
until he flushes fox sparrows. the fox sparrows
are not as reddish as i expected, but they do
stand out. twenty or more killdeer take off like
successful plaintiffs. anywhere i look is flocks.
you know what they say about groups. even
the chickens are out–all thousand of them.
even catch a pair of hawks–you dont usually.
and i watch them take turns in flight, traversing
trees, their red tails peach-pink in my glass really
glow. behind them in the treeline i spot what cld
be their nest. if so, this real state i walk just sky-
rocketed in personal value.
hawks enormous tails aflame spread like
fans that fan flames. brown wings from this
point seem owl-wide. i hear my private kestrel,
for the first time, then see her slate-blue arms
work. a huge mess of doves takes off. you can
tell a single dove by the sound of its flutter.
and now i hear one leaf shake. and now a
Carolina chickadee—and ill be damned if
i dont find her, and ill be damned if i ever do!
i light a smoke and sit by a beehive gaping
in a tree trunk low to the ground. i start when
i see i smoke next to a mouse skeleton. eyell go
anywhere the lambs ear grows, i muse quietly,
think ive seen the last of the asters.
Bree is a poet, publisher and artist, and one of the editors of Least Bittern Books. She also made up Green Panda Press in 2001 which continues to put out hand-made poetry and art books, anthologies, gatefolds, little books and sundry. Her LBB paperback is available here.
Excited to announce e b bortz’s poetry manuscript earth notes and other poemsis now available from Least Bittern Books. bortz is a Pittsburgh poet, but he takes us on vast terrain inside and outside the US, as he bikes, kayaks, hikes or drives his impressions to the page. He often speaks from a natural landscape, tho sometimes clearly from his office desk, about man vs. nature and beauty vs. what has been wasted. His perspective is thotful and provocative. They are love poems as much as nature ones. We imagine u will enjoy what he does with words.
earth notes and other poems is illustrated thru-out with full-color drawings by KY poet Bree, one of the editors here at Least Bit. The book is 100 pgs., costs $14. To purchase send via paypal to firstname.lastname@example.org, or tuck some cash and mail to 147 Marcus St. Pleasureville, KY 40057
the sun spread itself, a red pupil
in a golden eye watering. i backed into
some peaches where a cukoo
was residing, amid the staggered ebony
of shadows dying.
warblers dropped from where to land
on what, with such velocity, i barely
caught the tail of one before i raced to
almost see the eye ring of another.
a puffed out hummingbird paused
long enough on a median branch,
confused me—ruby throat, yes,
but white crowned, impossibly.
not safe to walk the main road
in the dark, i gathered the buckeyes
i had snatched and heard far cows
bawling for their calves. the sun
gone, i hawked round in a ditch
where i found true north
in a clouded sulfur butterfly.
Bree is a poet and artist in KY farmland. She is the author of three memoirs, including A Leg To Stand On, where she tells of being hit by a car while walking in a crosswalk, which enables her three free migraine surgeries which did not aid in her recovery, but made her feel a little rewarded.