Thursday, November 30, 2006

Now available, Karl Parker's HARMSTORM
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Cover art by Andrew Mister.
Printed in a limited edition of 100.

Purchase now via PayPal or send a check made out to Gina Myers to 95 Verona St. #4, Brooklyn, NY 11231.

NOTE: Lame House will be on vacation 12/22 - 1/7. Anything ordered during this time will not ship until January 8th. Thank you.


Saturday, October 14, 2006

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Lame House #5
Released Friday October 13, 2006.
Printed in a limited edition of 100.

Saturday, September 30, 2006


Pending any unforeseeable delays, Lame House will release two new chapbooks on Friday October 13th:

Karl Parker's HARMSTORM (Lame House #4)


Alli Warren's Cousins (Lame House #5)




This is not the news, not to say
you didn't already know that

but as you said it's hard to know how
and exactly who to trust with such

information as does not become us
necessarily normally anyway.

Some procedures don't grow old.
Include those who died today.

Literally everything that happened
to bend your vectored view

suffusing red. Make all allowances
you like and need to move through.

Across the way they see things there
we are.


from Cousins

The Contents of the Handbag

My little legs were working
My numbers kept increasing
I was coming on like gangbangers
I was slated for major redevelopment

Something rising up warm on my right
Something trustworthy dipped in honey

Gradually the little ones in their ambulances
Goats galloping and or cajoling home
Nevermind the heart murmur
I too am a rabbit


Also, please scroll down to see Karl Parker's "Incident," also from HARMSTORM.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006


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"'That music // could have numbers.' Yes, it can and does. Music, colors, body parts, earth, air, fire and water, CODE OVER CODE. You think oh it’s a few lines on a page and then it turns out to be a whole rhythmic life, then another life, or a part, of an elemental past, present and future you want to read, 'because division is how one gets here.' Michael Sikkema is a sophisticated and straightforward poet." --Norma Cole

"In the spirng of 1971, the American poet Lew Welch walked out of the mountain cabin he’d borrowed and never came back, his body presumably dissolved into the frightening California forest he so loved and feared. Michael Sikkema takes up Welch’s struggle, the drive for a permanent home, and rings changes on his forebear’s remarkable prosody in the new sequence Code Over Code. California doesn’t fit everyone, and COC is one man’s chart of discovering ways to push through, ways to surrender. Inside this voyage, a return to the circus of childhood, its lonesome night light. Radar blips send messages; paper clips do too. It’s a book of questions, if only one question mark. 'Is there one truly human act left?' I take this to mean, is there an act untouched by the grand natural surround? 'One is oversized/ or one is under.' Everything is binary, thus incomplete, in the teeming world we have made as bad citizens. 'Just outside, two quail feathers against gold weeds.'" --Kevin Killian

UPDATE: 10.21.2006 Michael Sikkema's Code Over Code is no longer available.

Saturday, July 22, 2006


Forthcoming in August, two titles from Lame House Press:

Code Over Code by Michael Sikkema
HARMSTORM by Karl Parker

Sneak Previews:

from Code Over Code


I wanted everything with you to be nicely round in a square of berry patch,

dirt and sky.

Or the taqueria.

Deplorable neighbors with phones, those faces. Will this ache heal or stop?

I ask for a working fear of white cars and loud noises as the rain stretches a lake sideways.

Everything is––

––is the light better there?

The chime takes the toll gets worse,

time rakes the coals then sets curse, a mime with a mole and jest sores.

The first whorls come easiest without a map

because division is how one gets here.




The bodies were blown back from the tankard.

Drilling was hard going but at least it made work.

Someone was making a comeback. Come home!

Boys and girls turned green and were gone.

Times was when there wasn't anymore of this.

That was soon or barely lasted.

Day came hard across the pointed tents; dawn veined.

Someone was making a come back. Come home.

Boys and girls turned green and were gone.


Sister by Gabriella Torres - Sold Out
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Lame House #1
Launched October 4, 2005.
Printed in a limited edition of 75.

"Whatever illusions of loveliness these poems offer their uneasy titles dispel, & leave us the wobbling balance of finding a warped, separate presence alive in the words. Torres writes "You were a tragedy long before you were a girl", & such devastation is real in these poems, enacted & queasily pretty." -- Dana Ward

"gabriella torres' chapbook, sister, is full of poems that take faulkner as their base and then take off into their own genius lyric exploration of thought. these poems make me want to read the sound and the fury , but more importantly, they make me hope that torres will publish more and more poems. with lines like, "i have reinvented you in translation," "spent the whole day as a ghost," and "you were a tragedy long before you were a girl," readers are left with a sense of a new rurality. a poet who is able to create a new visual field, without losing originality in both language and thought. bravo!" -- erica kaufman

Nothing Moving by Hazel McClure - Sold Out
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Lame House #2
Released on May 20, 2006.
Printed in a limited edition of 75.

"Blue in pools, the little houses with little addresses, ice in patterns, mud at the bottom, I'm a body in a singing column, words arranged in a briefcase: Hazel McClure's brilliant poems carry the grace of origin. She speaks a primary language, and she teaches us where the sources are, where the meanings are. She invents a marvelous poetics of silence and precision, gaps and courage: you must read this." --Joseph Lease

"How we come to see ourselves. Glass, ice, sun, lines of water on a steamed-over window. 'The child sees a story in the lines, sings this word, that name.' How we come to say ourselves and where we are. 'Noun echoes pine.' The chest and the heart inside it, 'chest cracks open / as a seed.' I recognize home in this book of poems: the comings and goings of meaning (as if through the window that we keep returning to), the contast translation of body to spirit to world to body to word. The person speaking is someone I believe. And 'she looks straight / into the camera / as if she knows me'." --Kate Greenstreet