Holy Cow Press – förlag

Pretend the World confronts our false sense of safety in our self-created worlds. From her St. Paul kitchen to the historical shores of Lake Superior, from an airplane above Bagdad to a clothing factory in Guangdong, Kathryn Kysar pretends the glimmering and the sordid in these honest, searing poems that explore the inequities, cracks, and fissures in women''s constructed lives.

Kathryn Kysar is the author of Dark Lake (Loonfeather Press, 2002), a book of poetry, and is the editor of Riding Shotgun: Women Write About Their Mothers (Borealis Books, 2008). She has received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Humanities and the Anderson Center, and she has published poems in many anthologies and magazines, including Great River Review, Mizna, and Painted Bride Quarterly. She serves on the board of directors for the Association of Writers and Writing Programs.

"This a book about that place inside us all where bafflement meets mystery: a strange place, sometimes frightening and sometimes filled with stars and pines, clear flowing water and the deep joy of companionship."—Jim Moore

Roseann Lloyd''s new poetry collection takes us on a sister''s unflinching exploration into grief for a brother lost on a solo hike in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness in northern Minnesota. His clothes are found but not his body. How does one mourn without a body? This absence calls up memories of his life and mixed emotions; it evokes other disappearances—children missing in Iraq, climbers lost on Everest, a college student drowned.

Even though I''ve said, for two years now, I don''t need his body to do my mourning, I''m suddenly desperate to touch your arms, muscled and tan . . .

Full of verbal energy and rich patterns of sound, Lloyd''s lines are allowed to breathe and move about in always interesting forms: prose poems, found poems, section poems, swirling mosaics of time and place. Beautifully crafted, the poems are emotionally complex yet accessible.

Roseann Lloyd has published eight books, including three poetry collections: Because of the Light (Holy Cow! Press), War Baby Express (Holy Cow! Press—awarded the Minnesota Book Award for Poetry), and Tap Dancing for Big Mom (New Rivers Press). The anthology she co-edited with Deborah Keenan, Looking for Home: Women Writing About Exile (Milkweed Editions) was awarded an American Book Award. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

"I know of no more convincing proof of Walt Whitman''s impact upon the poetic mind (both at home and abroad) than this collection of tributes by poets -- in prose and verse" -- Gay Wilson Allen, The Solitary Singer.

Includes 17 black & white photos.

"Epic in scope, but gentle and charming in delivery, Fred Amram''s We''re in America Now is a quiet chronicle of a clamorous era. Politics and war compel Amram''s family to leave the only home they ever knew and embark on a personal exodus, fleeing a new pharaoh, pursuing a new promised land. They arrive in America to discover that paradise is not all milk and honey, but love, loyalty, and faith conspire to hold the family together, and the story of how they rebuild the life that was robbed them is moving, probing, and insightful." —J.C. Hallman, author of B & Me: A True Story of Literary Arousal

These compelling stories form a riveting memoir that begins with the author''s birth during the rise of Hitler in 1930s Germany. He and his surviving family soon escape to Holland and sail to America where they encounter many challenges as immigrants in a new world. This country truly becomes a land of opportunity where one can build a new life and become more than a "Holocaust survivor."

Fred Amram is a retired University of Minnesota professor of communication and creativity. He spent his early years in Hanover, Germany, where he experienced the Holocaust from its inception in 1933. He witnessed Kristallnacht and the Gestapo invading his home. He watched the British bombers from his balcony when Jews were banned from air raid shelters. The loss of uncles, aunts, a grandmother, and many more relatives has motivated him to share his experiences in hopes of ending genocide everywhere.

A poet and female commander in the Israeli Defense Forces creates an original perspective from the war-torn front lines of the Middle East conflict.

The Dove That Didn’t Return tackles the canon of war poetry, an almost exclusively male-penned body of poems. In the book, biblical stories, verses, and fragments are rewritten through the eyes of a female lieutenant in the Israeli Army. It is a contemporary poetics on the revelations of war from an Israeli perspective never before told—a woman, and a soldier at that.This debut full-length collection follows upon the publication of her critically acclaimed chapbook, Between Sanctity and Sand, from Finishing Line Press. 

"This is a book I love."--Bret Lott, author of Jewel and Before We Get Started: A Practical Memoir of the Writer''s Life

From a Minnesota book award-winning author, an essay collection that explores what is most essential to him, from the difficult lives of jazz musicians, to trout fishing, to the shifting population and mores of suburbia. 

“Here’s the thing,” Richard Terrill writes. “There’s always the thing, isn’t there, and most often, not just one?” Terrill, an award-winning poet and memoirist, asks through this series of wide-ranging, funny, and sometimes gut-punchingly vulnerable essays, what is essential? Maybe trout fishing, the music of Bill Evans, or the whys of dog ownership. Maybe Yasujiro Ozu’s Tokyo Story, We Chat, a musician’s early hearing loss, and spying on the neighbors. Or maybe the coming apocalypse, almost getting lost in the woods, trespassing, town clean-up days, and the reason Miles Davis never listened to his own recordings. At times self-effacing and funny, at times outspoken and provocative, Terrill fixes a clear eye on the contradictions in our present moment. “We’re at that point in a journey where you know where you’re going, but you don’t know where you are,” he writes. “The destination should come anytime now.”