I’m
not sure when I got the idea to start Free Poetry. Maybe it was not just one
idea, but a few coinciding. I’d certainly been interested in the weird way
major (whatever…) poets in the UK seemed happy to have their work published in
small numbers by difficult to locate small presses. I noticed in the early 90s
that Rod Mengham was running a ‘press’ called Equipage which seemed to include
many of the poets I was trying to get hold of and read (was it pre-internet? It
was for me at least), which was decidedly lo-tech. Peter Riley also had a
series that included work by Alice Notley. It almost seemed that chapbooks were
made for and by poets for their friends.
This
kind of dove-tailed into my interest in Middle English lyrics, anonymous poets,
and the manuscript-based survival of poetry as a kind of moving communal
anthology. My own leftist socialist political views and an interest in proto-communist
antinomian groups struggling with proto-capitalist governance such as the
Diggers, the Levellers, along with the writings of Winstanley, Walwyn, all
pointed towards an idea of poetry as a communal site, a commons, that was less
interested in individuality as the progress of history or poetry, and more
interested in language as a domain of free exchange (I gave a lecture at Otis
College of Art about this in around 2000 I think).
One
of the first English “poets” I met was Ric Caddell, back in ‘95 or ‘96, a wonderful
poet and editor of Pig Press. He opened my eyes to the phenomenon of
individually run small presses, as did meeting Alan Halsey around the same
time, at his Poetry Book Shop in Hay-on-Wye, where he loaded me down with
pamphlets by Bill Griffiths and Jeremy Prynne, serious works of art published
on a photocopier by the looks of things. Alan was making beautiful books as
West House Books, along with Glenn Storhaug’s help (Five Seasons Press), things
of beauty way beyond my capabilities, but Alan also made little one-off pieces,
sometimes along with Kelvin Corcoran who was then in Cheltenham (Grattan Street
Irregulars). I was interested in the historical
political role of pamphlets, the easy and quick dissemination, but also liked
the aesthetics of these literally priceless gifts.
Perhaps
another part of my interest was seeking an alternative path to the big press
success that seemed to be preferred when I was a graduate student at Iowa (my
work was never going to make that kind of journey possible). I recall helping
one or two poets there put together chapbooks at Kinkos, I helped/watched Eric
(now Max) Leach make one for Geoffrey Nutter, (maybe entitled The Palindrome
Year?1991?).
Anyway,
a few things coming together. I made chapbooks of my own work, and it never
occurred to me to sell them. They were gifts, and a way of “finishing off” the
work, so I could see it in a decent form, off the computer. And then send it to
poets I knew or wanted to have see the work.
Once
I got to Boise State, I was given a line of funding by Tom Trusky that he’d
been using to fund a project called Poetry in Public Places (he used it to make
posters). I must have decided pretty soon that I was going to use it for
chapbooks. At a meeting of the Thomas Traherne Society in Herefordshire in 2005
I met the poet Jeremy Hooker. We hit it off. And I asked him for some work for
the series. His was the first book I published in the chapbook series.
I
wanted the chapbooks to look like Ministry of Defense information pamphlets or
something like. Very utilitarian. I recall seeing Jennifer Moxley and Steve
Evans’s Impercipient
Lecture Series, which though maybe not free (were they?) certainly gave me
the idea of something being inexpensive and easy to ship around. They also,
crucially, suggested photocopying and sharing, which I latched onto as an idea.
So, really I wanted the books to be easily reproducible. If you took out the
central staples you could run off a few at Kinkos, even make the cover in
another colour. My plan was that the books would spread via mitosis! I used a
bland colour so that the book wasn’t seen as a desirable “purchase,” though I
think they still probably were. I have seen them for sale on the internet,
which is against the whole idea, but there’s capitalism for you.
It's
also the case that for many years, BSU had a “normal” commercial poetry press,
Ahsahta Press. So, I was doing something else, something that wasn’t “in
competition” with that (or any other press I knew).
*
Jump
a decade or so and I decided it might be nice to make something a little more
substantial, still “free,” but something bigger. Chapbooks can only hold their
shape up to a certain size. Though there are some great small presses in North
American poetry (The Song Cave, Canarium, really quite a few gems), I saw a
need for a venue for poetics, or for work that might engage with such a thing.
Luke
Roberts had sent me a manuscript to read and I asked him if he’d be interested
in having it come out in a copyright-free, no-price format. It must be said
that not all poets are going to want to place their work in such a venue, it’s
worryingly unofficial, and reputations and tenure-reviews don’t necessarily
love such a thing. But he was fully onboard. So, between Luke, me and Hope
Kelham, a graduate student in the MFA program here, we came up with a size-format
and a series design we liked, and off we went to press. You’ll see from the
website that we now have three books and more are in the pipeline.
That’s
basically it. Hope designs the books (she is still a student here) and I do the
hit-and-miss mailing. Editing is usually all of us pitching in. I’ve been
delighted by the response. In some ways it has been rather too successful for
its own good, especially as I don’t sell the books, so sending them out is
costly and time consuming. The US postal service has taken a hit in recent
years, as has the UK’s Royal Mail, hiking up prices but not efficiency or
service. Try sending a box of books to the UK these days. Don’t.
Peter
Gizzi’s book of interviews reminded me just how popular a poet he is nationally
and internationally. Cole’s book did the same. Both poets are well-known and
could have placed their books in a more conventional setting (as could Luke). I
think it was just like a grown-up version of making chapbooks at Iowa. I wanted
to make something nice to put some of my friends’ work out into the world.
I’ve
no idea how long this particular project will last, but when I started the
chapbooks in 2005/6 I had no sense it would still be going in 2022 (I would not
have expected to still be in Boise myself!). I hope I can hand it off to a
younger colleague in the next few years (or sooner). Hopefully they can find
poets and poetics they think deserve a platform.
I
don’t accept submissions. I never have. It’s always been more casual than that.
The poets were not all friends or even acquaintances. It’s always been a mix of
poetry, essays, and increasingly works of translation, and always rather
haphazard.
I
suggest everyone start their own press and do the same thing. If you want to
call it Free Poetry, then by all means do!
Martin Corless-Smith is the author of
a dozen books, most recently The Melancholy of Anatomy (Shearsman Books,
UK 2021), The Ongoing Mystery of the Disappearing Self (SplitLevel
Texts, 2020) and The Poet's Tomb (Parlor Press, 2020). He lives and
teaches in Boise, Idaho.
