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from the author except for in critical articles & reviews.
Cover design & interior layout by Amanda Oaks
Words Dance Publishing
WordsDance.com
2014
WORDS DANCE
BOOK SAMPLER
Featuring Poems from:
LOVE AND OTHER SMALL WARS BY DONNA-MARIE RILEY
WHAT WE BURIED BY CAITLYN SIEHL
SPARKLEFAT BY MELISSA MAY
SHAKING THE TREES BY AZRA TABASSUM
I EAT CROW + BLUE COLLAR AT BEST
BY AMANDA OAKS + ZACH FISHEL
BELLY OF THE BEAST BY ASHE VERNON
from
Love and Other Small Wars
Theories
You are wisdom. Silver-tongued and sharp. Brain the size of
a small country. I theorize in bed. All speculation. All
questions and no answers. You are certain. You are
fact and precision and well, obviously… I am all blood
without you. Heart. Blood and wonder and still more
blood. I am infinitely curious. If it weren’t for you, there’d
be no conclusions to any of my conversations. Just
wide, black holes. The earth opened in one giant yawn.
History blurred into a question mark. Thank you for
the opposition. For your tongue lying in wait. Your
knowledge unsheathed and sunk deep into my softness.
My far-fetched maybes. My asking. You say knowing is
better when it can be tied up neatly. When it can be
finished up and closed off. When the discussion is over.
I prefer to wonder. Prefer my own imagination. Prefer
ignorance. Prefer to challenge all your certainties. Your
clean mouth. Boxed mind. Straight shooter you are.
You solid rock. Bold, dense, and unmoving. You are
a force to be reckoned with. So am I. The ocean
crumbles boulders into nothing after only a few good
touches.
by Donna-Marie Riley
Donna-Marie Riley is, first and foremost, a poet, albeit one
with a shaking voice. At seven years old her second grade
teacher personally bought her a journal and instructed her to
“write everything.” So she did.
The first poem she wrote without the help of her
mother was entitled Leprechauns and was, quite frankly, rather
terrible. Since then, however, she’s worked hard at the craft,
dedicating more time to it than anything (and anyone) else.
She can’t say herself whether it’s paid off, but she’s amassed a
humble following within the online Tumblr community, which
helps to keep her at it even on the bad days.
She lives between homes in England, but often misses the sharp
edges of New York City where she was raised. She collects
old books, strange necklaces, and soft lovers. She gets nervous
leaving the house without an umbrella and has trouble with the
word gone.
Love and Other Small Wars is her first collection of poetry. She
hopes you’ll handle it gently.
Paperback & eBook available for purchase at
WORDSDANCE.COM
also on Etsy + Amazon
love and other small wars
Poetry by Donna-Marie Riley
| $12 | 76 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0615931111
Love and Other Small Wars reminds us that when you come back
from combat usually the most fatal of wounds are not visible.
Riley’s debut collection is an arsenal of deeply personal poems
that embody an intensity that is truly impressive yet their hands
are tender. She enlists you. She gives you camouflage & a pair
of boots so you can stay the course through the minefield of
her heart. You will track the lovely flow of her soft yet fierce
voice through a jungle of powerful imagery on womanhood,
relationships, family, grief, sexuality & love, amidst other
matters. Battles with the heart aren’t easily won but Riley hits
every mark. You’ll be relieved that you’re on the same side.
Much like war, you’ll come back from this book changed.
=m
"Riley’s work is wise, intense, affecting, and uniquely crafted.
This collection illuminates her ability to write with both a
gentle hand and a bold spirit. She inspires her readers and
creates an indelible need inside of them to consume more of her
exceptional poetry. I could read Love and Other Small Wars all
day long…and I did."
— April Michelle Bratten
editor of Up the Staircase Quarterly
"Riley’s poems are personal, lyrical and so vibrant they
practically leap off the page, which also makes them terrifying
at times. A beautiful debut."
— Bianca Stewart
from
WHAT WE BURIED
IN THE LAND OF THE LIVING
In the world where we are together,
the rivers have hands that pray.
The birds have learned how to cry
and worms have hearts and a central nervous system.
Everything is human here.
Spiders pay rent to stay in the corners of our ceilings.
Trees sing folk songs about their fallen brothers and sisters.
The wind is their mother swaying them to sleep, trying to
quiet the grief.
The rocks write poems about the ocean
but never show them to her.
They cry erosion and she does not know
how to give back what she has taken.
I kiss you in front of the bruised face of the moon
and can hear the blood pooling
underneath her silver skin.
There is no shame here.
The grass begs for our bodies and we oblige.
The crickets tune their strings and start playing their symphony.
We are never alone, but we are free.
The earth has a pulse that we check with our bare feet.
Even the concrete hums.
by Caitlyn Siehl
Caitlyn is primarily interested in healing. Growing
up in a small town in New Jersey, she began writing
poetry three years ago with the intention of bringing pain
to the surface, of clawing through the dirt and excavating it
before singing it to sleep. She tries to be gentle with what
hurts, and it has helped.
Currently a student at Rutgers University, Caitlyn is studying
film and journalism in the hopes of becoming a screenwriter.
At twenty-years-old, she is still growing. She has found her
voice and it is a delicate thing, so she is happy to be sharing it.
Paperback & eBook available for purchase at
WORDSDANCE.COM
also on Etsy + Amazon
WHAT WE BURIED
Poetry by Caitlyn Siehl
| $12 | 64 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0615985862
This book is a cemetery of truths buried alive. The light draws
you in where you will find Caitlyn there digging. When you
get close enough, she’ll lean in & whisper, Baby, buried things
will surface no matter what, get to them before they get to you
first. Her unbounded love will propel you to pick up a shovel
& help— even though the only thing you want to do is kiss
her lips, kiss her hands, kiss every one of her stretch marks &
the fire that is raging in pit of her stomach. She’ll see your eyes
made of devour & sadness, she’ll hug you & say, Baby, if you eat
me alive, I will cut my way out of your stomach. Don’t let this
be your funeral. Teach yourself to navigate the wound.
=m
"It takes a true poet to write of love and desire in a way that
manages to surprise and excite. Caitlyn Siehl does this in poem
after poem and makes it seem effortless. Her work shines with
a richness of language and basks in images that continue to delight and astound with multiple readings. What We Buried is a
treasure from cover to cover."
— WILLIAM TAYLOR JR.
Author of An Age of Monsters
"Caitlyn weaves her words to form quilts of desire and passion
and heartache and it isn't hard to say that she weaves it inside
of us, the readers. If you love poetry, this book is definitely for
you. The hard work that went into this book is easy to see and
you can see the poet's beauty reflecting out of it in each page."
— Amanda Helm
from
SparkleFat
Love Letter– For the Symphony
Dear Other Bodies,
I have coveted you. I have worn my flesh in war against you. I
have prayed to never end up like you. I have prayed to go back in
time and steal the song from your perfect lungs. I have wished you
sickness. I have held you responsible for my own imperfect love.
I have ravaged you with teeth so dull it almost felt like a whisper.
I have let comparison steal the joy I should have given you space
for. I have mocked you. I have made my husband say I am more
beautiful than you. I have hated you. I have made you an object. I
have made you a prayer. I have made you a river I am grateful I do
not have to swim in.
I am sorry for the long history of war, stealth, and secret. I am
sorry that I have looked at a body and removed it of the humanity
inside. I’m sorry that I have taken a hammer to any body shaped
like a more attractive nail. I am sorry for not loving you the way I
have loved myself. I am sorry for being angry that you do not have
to walk this road. I am sorry for the language of envy burned into
my tongue.
Dear Other Bodies – please know, when I fall madly in love with
myself, I am falling madly in love with you as well. I am undoing
all of the education about how to love these vessels. I am learning
a new language of freckle and pock and open.
Dear Other Bodies – my body is not always a light house. But
when I am dangerous for you to travel near, I will not climb the
rocks of my own insecurity and siren you into the cliffs. I will not
make you a meal to feed my own emptiness. I will not punish my
skin by comparison. I will not let envy steal my joy. I will not treat
any body like an escape hatch out of my own responsibility. I will
hold you as fully and completely as I hold myself: in accountability,
in grace, and in truth.
Signed,
A body –
a perfectly flawed body.
by Melissa May
Melissa May is a Youth-In-Crisis worker, body positivity/body
justice activist, cat-call devourer, general unraveler of the
patriarchy and salty feminist sass-mouth from Oklahoma. She
has been a competitive spoken word artist since 2008, and has
been both a multi-time Women of the World Poetry Slam
finalist as well as the 3rd ranked poet in the
world at the Individual Poetry Slam in 2012.
She has a degree in Youth Ministry and Bible and Theology
that she is aggressively not using, is married to a mad scientist,
loves harder than medically recommended, cannot physically
stop cursing and smuggles thousands of secrets around like the
precious and delicate things that they are. The only secrets she
can't seem to keep are her own. That's what you're holding now.
The un-doing of all her shame. The most rare and wild jewel of
her heart. Smuggle it around real good. Keep it safe. She'll owe
you big.
She knows you are perfect.
Paperback & eBook available for purchase at
WORDSDANCE.COM
also on Etsy + Amazon
SparkleFat
Poems That Intend To Be Seen
Poetry by Melissa May
| $12 | 62 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0692225417
SparkleFat is a loud, unapologetic, intentional book of poetry about
my body, about your body, about fat bodies and how they move
through the world in every bit of their flash and spark and burst.
Some of the poems are painful, some are raucous celebrations, some
are reminders and love letters and quiet gifts back to the vessel that
has traveled me so gracefully - some are a hymnal of yes, but all of
them sparkle. All of them don’t mind if you look – really. They
built their own house of intention, and they draped that shit in lime
green sequins. All of them intend to be seen. All of them have no
more fucks to give about a world that wants them to be quiet.
=m
"I didn't know how much I needed this book until I found myself,
three pages in, ugly crying on the plane next to a concerned looking
business man. This book is the most glorious, glittery pink
permission slip. It made me want to go on a scavenger hunt for
every speck of shame in my body and sing hot, sweaty R&B songs
to it. There is no voice more authentic, generous and resounding
than Melissa May. From her writing, to her performance, to her
role in the community she delivers fierce integrity & staggering
passion. From the first time I watched her nervously step to the
mic, to the last time she crushed me in a slam, it is has been an
honor to watch her astound the poetry slam world and inspire us all
to be not just better writers but better people. We need her."
— Lauren Zuniga
Author of The Smell of Good Mud
"SparkleFat is a firework display of un-shame. Melissa May’s work
celebrates all of the things we have been so long told deserved no
streamers. This collection invites every fat body out to the dance
and steams up the windows in the backseat of the car afterwards by
kissing the spots we thought (or even hoped) no one noticed but are
deserving of love just the same as our mouths."
— Rachel Wiley
Author of Fat Girl Finishing School
from
Shaking the Trees
LOVE IS HERE AND LOVE IS HUNGRY
Mother, I am ravenous. Mother it is not what they said, they did
not tell us the truth, they did not even say that it would look like
the underbelly of a skinned mammal. That it would be like the
inside of a lip. It is the scrape of his teeth on the soft of my arm
and how I moaned for days. It is greedy and hungry. I am always
hungry. I am always a stomach full of teeth and need. Need, god, I
need. Once in the morning and once in the afternoon,
sometimes in between. Sometimes I am not a girl, but a slice of
desire. Mother, if desperation were human, she would wear my
eyes. She would hold my hands. She would take me by the neck
and fill me until I was boneless. Later she would write in her diary,
today I destroyed a girl and it tasted like wine.
We’ve been swapping spit instead of stories. We’ve been trying to
eat each other alive. In the quiet moments, I have been picking cherry stems out of
his teeth. I have been tying them up in knots and feeding them
back to him. I have filled his stomach with pits. Every time, I have
kissed it into his mouth and said, I am a seed. When you tear me
out, I want you to feel it in your throat. I want you to feel it everywhere.
I am wanting and longing, love is not what they said. It is not
what we learned, or how we acted. It is full of tongue. It is full of
plum. Grab what you need and keep taking. Gorge. Don’t bury.
Become limbs, become breaths, become the tiny spaces between
your body. Inhabit, expand. Fuck. Fuck until you are raw. When
you are both skeletons you will kiss each other full again. You will
wrestle skin and ache.
It is not what I’ve read, mother. There is a monster inside of me.
It’s turned me into a body, it’s turned me into nails. I am desperate
for him. I am trembling for him. Love is furious, mother, it is so
red and so ugly. At night we hold each other and shake from the
violence of it.
BY AZRA TABASSUM
Azra Tabassum is a 20 year old English Student and
hopeless romantic who lives on the South Coast of England
and spends her days crying over fictional men and cats that
she does not own. Her lifelong dream is to fall in love with
a man with a beard and retire to a small cottage in Scotland
to raise an army of felines, open a small bookshop and of
course, spend her days writing books and eating chocolate.
Paperback & eBook available for purchase at
WORDSDANCE.COM
also on Etsy + Amazon
SHAKING THE TREES
Poetry by Azra Tabassum
| $12 | 72 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0692232408
From the very first page Shaking the Trees meets you at the
edge of the forest, extends a limb & seduces you into taking a
walk through the dark & light of connection. Suddenly, like a
gunshot in the very-near distance, you find yourself traipsing
though a full-blown love story that you can’t find your way out
of because the story is actually the landscape underneath your
feet. It’s okay though, you won’t get lost– you won’t go hungry.
Azra shakes every tree along the way so their fruit blankets the
ground before you. She picks up pieces & hands them to you but
not before she shows you how she can love you so gently it will
feel like she’s unpeeling you carefully from yourself. She tells
you that it isn’t about the bite but the warm juice that slips from
the lips down chin. She holds your hand when you’re trudging
through the messier parts, shoes getting stuck in the muck of
it all, but you’ll keep going with the pulp of the fruit still stuck
in-between your teeth, the juice will dry in the crooks of your
elbows & in the lines on your palms. You’ll taste bittersweet for
days.
=m
"I honestly haven’t read a collection like this before, or at least
I can’t remember having read one. My heart was wrecked
by Azra. It’s like that opening line in Fahrenheit 451 when
Bradbury says, “It was a pleasure to burn.” It really was a
pleasure being wrecked by it."
— Noura
of NouraReads
"I wanted to cry and cheer and fuck. I wanted to take the next
person I saw and kiss them straight on the lips and say, "Remember this moment for the rest of your life."
— Chelsea Miller
from
I Eat Crow
You Flood
It’s raining your name & five miles back
my windshield wiper eyes
gave up on clearing the way
you used to mother me into thinking
that it was okay to love me like that.
It’s raining your name like the way bones shake
when they are standing in the tallness
& balancing on the hollowed-out surface
of either our love or fear.
It’s raining your name like bomb squad,
like battering ram, like fallout shelter.
It’s raining your name
& I want it to be hymnal.
I want it to be like two sets of legs
intertwined inside a sleeping bag
in a covered bed of a pickup truck
parked on a forgotten dirt road.
I want it be like the way the body
remembers touch.
The way a smell or a song
can jet ski you back 20 years.
It’s raining your name & if it can’t be that,
I’d rather it be volcano ash falling over a town
we just mowed over. I’d rather it be
the debris from the crash
between our two airplane hearts
dead-dropping
to the ground.
It’s raining your name & I turn slow leak.
I turn puddle. I river. I ocean. I fuckin’ tsunami.
You waterboard. You constant drip.
It’s raining your name
& I can’t seem to remember
the way the inside of my head sounds
without it.
by Amanda Oaks
Amanda Oaks currently lives & loves in Western
PA with her love & life partner, they have two loving
sons that have filled theirs lives with laughs & lessons.
She likes poems that bloody your mouth just to kiss it
clean. Enabler, poet, hoop dancer, lippy feminist,
multi-passionate artist & the founding editor of
Words Dance Publishing, her works have appeared
in numerous online & print publications, including
Stirring, Dressing Room Poetry Journal, Glamour, Elle,
Parenting & Artful Blogging. Her chapbook, Hurricane
Mouth, was published by NightBallet Press in 2014 &
she is currently working on her third collection, Raised
on Pop Songs. She's an ever-growing, always learning,
work-in-progress, just like you. You can find all
the stuff at: AmandaOaks.com + Words Dance.com
from
Blue Collar at Best
Eating Alone
There’s a certain way to move the left hand
when flipping eggs for a woman whose heart
is still asleep.
You will fail and break the yolks,
watching perfect yellow ribbons
string themselves across the skillet,
hardening at the first bit of heat
like winter traffic.
You are the brown paper towels
used in second grade
to see how much impact
lipstick will one day make.
You’re dancing in the ocean,
kelp falling across your breasts,
a mermaid dangling in the moonlight
as the tide rolls in.
This desire is a greasy spoon
found on the counter
after soaking your sleeves all day
for minimum wage.
You reach into the basin,
earn a pinky scar
from some careless hand
throwing cake cutters.
Some minuscule parts per millionth
leave your body, heavy lightning
marrying the filth
as a shark turns southward
against the current.
Your fear
in its ragged mouth.
by Zach Fishel
Zach Fishel was born in Central Pennsylvania and always
comes home. He's been a hiking and canoe guide,
outdoor educator and university professor. At present he
is residing in North Dakota and teaching on a
reservation. His poetry has received multiple Pushcart
and Best of the Web Nominations. He is the author of
Windsock Etiquette via Red Paint Hill Press as well as
chapbooks from NightBallet Press. He still believes he
can be an astronaut, cowboy, and a hobo.
Paperback & eBook available for purchase at
WORDSDANCE.COM
also on Etsy + Amazon
I EAT CROW + BLUE COLLAR AT BEST
Poetry by Amanda Oaks + Zach Fishel
| $15 | 124 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0692281598
Home is where the heart is and both poets’ hearts were raised in
the Appalachian region of Western Pennsylvania surrounded by
coal mines, sawmills, two-bit hotel taverns, farms, churches and
cemeteries. These poems take that region by the throat and shake
it until it’s bloody and then, they breathe it back to life. This book
is where you go when you’re looking for nostalgia to kick you in
the teeth. This is where you go when you’re 200 miles away from
a town you thought you’d never want to return to but suddenly
you’re pining for it.
Amanda and Zach grew up 30 miles from each other and met
as adults through poetry. Explore both the male and female
perspective of what it’s like to grow up hemmed in by an area’s
economic struggle. These poems mine through life, love, longing
and death, they’re for home and away, and the inner strength that is
not deterred by any of those things.
SPLIT BOOK #1
What are Split Books?
Two full-length books from two poets in one
+ there's a collaborative split between the poets
in the middle!
Collect them all!
from
Belly of the Beast
SPEAKING OF LOVE
There is an ocean between
the first time I said “I love you”
and the last time I meant it.
I left that word buried
in the sand of a shoreline I’ve never seen
and took some time for myself:
to turn my life into a book
that didn’t read like unfinished emails
and grocery lists of all your favorite foods.
I spent days scrubbing your name
out of the grout that lines the bathtub,
shaking your dust from my shoes,
relearning how to spell my name.
It must have been
months
of waking up on your side of the bed,
and wondering where all this empty space came from.
I hope my teeth
came tumbling out of your suitcase
the first time you said my name
to a friend in passing.
I hope I hung on like a remora
until kissing her felt too much like
sleepwalking down the stairs of our old apartment.
I hope bad dreams sent you out
to the beach
with a shovel and a good bottle of wine,
digging through saltwater for proof
I ever even touched you.
While you go looking for that word,
I will be at home
in an apartment that looks nothing like you,
drinking hot tea that tastes more like love
than your mouth ever did.
And when you call at four in the morning,
hands as empty as the bottle by your side,
I will be sleeping soundly,
for the first time
in a long time.
BY ASHE VERNON
Ashe is a queer poet from Texas. She has nearly finished
undergrad at Stephen F. Austin State University, where she
majored in theatre and minored in gender studies. Ashe’s
focus falls, again and again, on themes of self-acceptance.
She likes to give the demons room to breathe and she has
always looked to the stars.
On top of poetry, Ashe is a playwright, an actor, and an
artist.
Ashe hopes to move to a big city with her grumpy cat and
cover herself in tattoos.
Paperback & eBook available for purchase at
WORDSDANCE.COM
also on Etsy + Amazon
belly of the beast
Poetry by Ashe Vernon
| $12 | 82 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0692300541
“Into the Belly of the Beast we crawl with Ashe as our guide;
into the dark visceral spaces where love, lust, descent and
desire work their transformative magic and we find ourselves
utterly altered in the reading. A truly gifted poet and
truth-spiller, Ashe’s metaphors create images within images,
leading us to question the subjective truths, both shared and
hidden, in personal relationship – to the other, and to oneself.
Unflinching in her approach, her poetry gives voice to that
which most struggle to admit – even if only to themselves. And
as such, Belly of the Beast is a work of startling courage and rich
depth – a darkly delicious pleasure.”
– Amy Palko
Goddess Guide, Digital Priestess & Writer
“It isn’t often you find a book of poetry that is as unapologetic,
as violent, as moving as this one. Ashe’s writing is intense and
visceral. You feel the punch in your gut while you’re reading,
but you don’t question it. You know why it’s there and you
almost welcome it.”
– Caitlyn Siehl
Author of What We Buried
“The poems you are about to encounter are the fierce time
capsules of girlhood, girded with sharp elbows, surprise
kisses, the meanders of wanderlust. We need voices this strong,
this true for the singing reminds us that we are not alone, that
someone, somewhere is listening for the faint pulse that is our
wish to be seen. Grab hold, this voice will be with us forever.”
– RA Washington
GuidetoKulchurCleveland.com
LITERARY SEXTS
A Collection of Short & Sexy Love Poems
(Volume 1)
| $12 | 42 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0615959726
Literary Sexts is a modern day anthology of short love poems with
subtle erotic undertones edited by Amanda Oaks & Caitlyn Siehl. Hovering
around 50 contributors & 124 poems, this book reads is like one long & very
intense conversation between two lovers. It’s absolutely breathtaking. These
are poems that you would text to your lover. Poems that you would slip into
a back pocket, suitcase, wallet or purse on the sly. Poems that you would
write on slips of paper & stick under your crush’s windshield wiper. Poems
that you would write on a Post-it note & leave on the bathroom mirror.
poem your heart out
Prompts, Poems & Room
to Add Your Own
Volume 1
| $15 | 158 pages | 5.5" x 8.5" | softcover |
ISBN: 978-0692317464
prompt Book + Anthology + Workbook
Words Dance Publishing teamed up with the Writer’s Digest’s Poetic Asides
blog to make their Poem-A-Day challenge this year even more spectacular!
Part poetry prompt book, part anthology of the best poems written during
the 2014 April PAD(Poem-A-Day) Challenge on the Poetic Asides
blog (by way of Writer's Digest) & part workbook, let both, the prompt
& poem, inspire you to create your own poetic masterpieces. Maybe
you participated in April & want to document your efforts during the
month. Maybe you’re starting now, like so many before you, with just a
prompt, an example poem, & an invitation to poem your heart out! You’re
encouraged—heck, dared—to write your own poems inside of this book!
This book is sectioned off by Days, each section will hold the prompt for
that day, the winning poem for that day & space for you to place the poem
you wrote for that day’s prompt inside.
Just a few of the guest judges: Amy King, Bob Hicok, Jericho Brown,
Nate Pritts, Kristina Marie Darling & Nin Andrews...
Challenge yourself, your friend, a writing workshop or your class to this
30 Day Poem-A-Day Challenge!
This is an invitation to poem your heart out!
WORDS DANCE PUBLISHING has one aim:
To spread mind-blowing / heart-opening poetry.
Words Dance artfully & carefully wrangles words that were born
to dance wildly in the heart-mind matrix. Rich, edgy, raw,
emotionally-charged energy balled up & waiting to whip your eyes
wild; we rally together words that were written to make your heart
go boom right before they slay your mind. We like Poems that
sneak up on you. Poems that make out with you. Poems that bloody
your mouth just to kiss it clean. Poems that bite your cheek so you
spend all day tonguing the wound. Poems that vandalize your heart.
Poems that act like a tin can phone connecting you to your
childhood. Fire Alarm Poems. Glitterbomb Poems. Jailbreak Poems.
Poems that could marry the land or the sea; that are both the hero
& the villain. Poems that are the matches when there is a city-wide
power outage. Poems that throw you overboard just dive in & save
your ass. Poems that push you down on the stoop in front of history’s
door screaming at you to knock. Poems that are soft enough to fall
asleep on. Poems that will still be clinging to the walls inside of your
bones on your 90th birthday. We like poems. Submit yours.
Words Dance Publishing is an independent press out of Pennsylvania.
We work closely & collaboratively with all of our writers to ensure that
their words continue to breathe in a sound & stunning home. Most
importantly though, we leave the windows in these homes unlocked
so you, the reader, can crawl in & throw one fuck of a house party.
To learn more about our books, authors, events & Words Dance
Poetry Magazine, visit:
WordsDance.com