jj rowan (they/them)

Historically and still today, most great literature is self-published (“vanity”) or published by someone’s friend or a small press. You shouldn’t limit your reading to large presses b/c that’s not where stuff really “happens.”

typewritten flyer for a poetry salon

not sure I have too many NH contacts here, but if you’re near the Lakes Region and want to be in poetry community, I hope you’ll join me 2nd Fridays in Laconia starting September 12!

I love everything about this story

😭

this made my day 😭

Gov. Ayotte vetoes book removal bill, bathroom ban bill, more Republican legislation Republican Gov. Kelly Ayotte vetoed seven New Hampshire bills, many intended to strengthen parental rights, bucking conservative wing of her party.

Incredible news out of New Hampshire tonight: we pushed the Republican governor (who faces re-election every 2 years) to veto a book ban AND an anti-trans bathroom ban 🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽🙌🏽

I needed this good news today.

ok but is there a better feeling than asking your public library to order a book and then getting to be the first person to borrow it?

👇👇👇👇👇👇

Horse_ebooks tweet: Everything happens so much

feeling more and more like it’s not that i’m done working on a poem, but the poem is done working on me. and then it can leave me, and live

Alice Notley got it. She GOT it.

Alice Notley "I've meant to tell you many things about my life" I've meant to tell you many things about my life, & every time the moment has conquered me. I'm strangely unhappy because the pattern of my life is complicated, because my nature is hopelessly complicated; & out of this, to my sorrow, pain to you must grow. The centre of me is always & eternally a terrible pain— a curious wild pain—a searching beyond what the world contains, something transfigured & infinite-I don't find it, I don't think it is to be found. It's like passionate love for a ghost. At times it fills me with rage, at times with wild despair, It's the source of gentleness & cruelty & work.

A favourite poem by Alice Notley.

Black and white photograph of Alice Notley in Bolinas, California, early 1972.

Alice Notley passed away yesterday evening in Paris. She said a few years ago, “What can we learn from the fact that we don’t die?” I’m heartbroken, & heartbroken for everyone who knew & loved her, her work.

oh Alice 💔 the first poet to take me deep into words. rest easy & boundless thank you.

i thought i would feel called out but actually i feel comforted

the new ANMLY is stellar

Not waiting for anyone and not a girl, but I ate olives over the sink right out of the jar. Goblin dinner?

favorite poems/books/essays/etc about mothers/being mothered/mothering? especially the complex ones.

(sunday is a rough day for me so i’m gonna do a big reading & writing day to just be in it, in case you wanna join me)

tattoo the swag right on my arm - I promise to compost it eventually

broke the 100 sonnet barrier w/ @airbudhockey.bsky.social during NaPo this year - this one’s up at Bloof for a bit!

here's to a few years some grief & a celebration

back at my lil newsletter

as a fickle-curl-haver, curl reports on very good hair days are essential

hey NH, i’ll be here tomorrow w/ some poemzines and other little weirds

Call for Work: Autistic Protest Poetry Autistic people’s rights are being threatened. Our worth is being questioned. And suddenly, we’re facing a bizarre accusation that an…

Call for Work: Autistic Protest Poetry

This call for work seeks poetry by autistic writers that is socially-engaged, politically-charged, and geared toward raising our voices together against oppression and erasure.

Deadline: July 1st

More details: medium.com/anomalyblog/...

poetry postcard written, marbled, set, and printed by Jessica Smith

stellar mail day thanks to @thedaybooks.bsky.social

Luna moth zine fest 2025 April 19th 11am to 4pm Derry-salem elks 39 shadow lake rd Salem nh All ages Free

Luna Moth Zine Fest is this Saturday at 11 in Salem NH! Tell your friends!! See you there!

lots of drafts up at the Bloof blog

breakfast of champions

already up to our nonsense

happy poetry month, fools