The first run of the Caribou GALLOPED out of our hands.  But we have re-printed this great beauty.  You can order it for £4 / $7 + p&p.

A cerebrally serpentine collection of love poems re-working the lyric into a silken girder that will dizzy you with echoes of itself ALL AFTERNOON: in short, YES.

Caribou whizzes its readers from the ‘Fast Eddy’ of East London to the ‘Vertigo Valley’ of West Canada. “Now I am conducive to everything” writes Amy De’Ath and she means it, through her wonderfully sassy lyric ‘I’ that negotiates the rapids and gulps at the cliff edge with never a flicker of introspective self-importance. These poems are fleet-footed and fancy-free. They love to dance but they know the depths they skip across, the brow that beetles, the heart that almost disintegrates. So they are an example to us. — John Wilkinson

Accelerates from fast break scatter into pocketa pocketa: a love careen. “This thing-ting, thinking! … this out-of-sync wonkybeat,” this poetry knows its game too well not to bash the balls off the table. Go on, De’Ath, “boom brighter than the moon.” — Cathy Wagner

Samuel Solomon reads some of the poems now collected in Life of Riley. (Recorded at the Sussex Poetry Festival by Rich Owens)

Part personae, part lyric, part lyric personae part purple limerick part sun.

a killing gesture

shapes its own world

i’ve measured them from night to night:

tiny ponds of splooge gleam in hawk-stripped light

In this series of red shouts, misremembered lyrics and culture
skimmings, Samuel Solomon offers a poetics of conviction: language
bumped and rigorous, tampered by gavels but still boisterous in ‘the
shadow of our right’.  ‘These are not tactics raised to principles. /
Every good poem is a transitional demand’.  Taken as a set of analects
‘in the interest of positions sometimes happy’, Solomon’s Life of
Riley offers both a serious engagement with the ludicrous what-is and
a flicker of its opposite: resisting eviction from public space, the
territorialism of capital, and the plunge out of affect into the trap
of concepts, these are poems to lean on. - Andrea Brady

The smash and clash of discourses buzz across these fully occupied
pages, from rant to camp, from sotto voce to shout in the street, where
“Every good poem is a transitional demand.”  They come in from the
parks and off the screens, but not without lyric shelters deeply earned. 
These are voices, many and singular, that are urgent to be heard. 
Listen in. - David Lloyd

These are £5 / $8 + p&p. [24pp.  ISBN978-0-9567743-4-7]
Cover image by Lee Triming.

More:

Rich Owens, Samuel Solomon, His Life of Riley
Samuel Solomon, Reading at the Sussex Poetry Festival 2012

stop the press!  or, uh, start the press!  because we have just unearthed 5 copies of Ryan Dobran’s 2008 Bad Press chapbook Yr Guilt Is A Miracle, which we were certain we had sold out of years ago.  these are £4 + p&p.

you can watch a clip of Ryan reading from his more recent work here.

Stuart Calton (illustrious aka THF Drenching) reviewed YRGIS here, thusly:

Where it is unusual is in its restrained potency, it refuses to sit up and perform for the reader, it takes its own path firmly, regardless of the expectations placed upon it. It is, in this sense only, quite sedate. But we must scratch any period-drama-drawing-room connotations: this is tightly-wrought work, coiled and buzzing precisely because it holds itself in abeyance, simmering but refusing to boil over, on its guard.

word to who made yuh

We’re almost clean out of everything.  THREE COPIES LEFT [woops wow nope they’re all gone] of Amy De’Ath’s CARIBOU, SIX COPIES LEFT of Emily Critchley’s WHEN I SAY I BELIEVE WOMEN, and a mere handful of UCPOz.  c a l l  t h e  c o r o n e r

A cerebrally serpentine collection of love poems re-working the lyric into a silken girder that will dizzy you with echoes of itself ALL AFTERNOON: in short, YES.

Caribou whizzes its readers from the ‘Fast Eddy’ of East London to the ‘Vertigo Valley’ of West Canada. “Now I am conducive to everything” writes Amy De’Ath and she means it, through her wonderfully sassy lyric ‘I’ that negotiates the rapids and gulps at the cliff edge with never a flicker of introspective self-importance. These poems are fleet-footed and fancy-free. They love to dance but they know the depths they skip across, the brow that beetles, the heart that almost disintegrates. So they are an example to us. — John Wilkinson

Accelerates from fast break scatter into pocketa pocketa: a love careen. “This thing-ting, thinking! … this out-of-sync wonkybeat,” this poetry knows its game too well not to bash the balls off the table. Go on, De’Ath, “boom brighter than the moon.” — Cathy Wagner

We are currently re-printing the divine Caribou: please see here for info.

4 Poems, 4 Poets: Marianne Morris, Luke Roberts, Sophie Robinson, Josh Stanley.
£4 / / $8.

Four poems/poets in one cultural transmission. All poems feature identifiable subjects, thereby furnishing the reader with that distinctly cozy-by-the-fire hint of the middle-brow, whilst maintaining all the feigned legitimacy of dialogue with poetic history that one would expect from a Bad Press publication. What more do you want. CALL THE DOCTOR!

These are £4 / $7 + p&p.

THE ORIGINAL UNCONFESSIONAL

“I’m amazed by When I Say I Believe Women.  It feels so new and necessary.” (Lisa Robertson)

“There is an urgency in Emily Critchley’s poetry that puts me in way of Rich and Grahn among many other poetic foremothers, which is unique and unafraid, with a serious cutting edge, in a time of great ineptitude, which challenges to be tempered.” (Susana Gardner)

UPDATE: OUT OF PRINT