Joseph Sigurdson’s No Sand is prose poems of the epistolary and confessional fashion. Intertwining the pitfalls of alcoholism vis a vis society, one ends up looking over the narrator’s shoulder, encapsulated by subtle chaos.
Limited edition (25 copies): Sand/dirt ruination with 100% hemp cord saddle-stitching (results will vary)
Package: Limited edition copy plus a previous Thirty West title and (2) broadsides.
These prose poems will haunt you and inspire you. The speaker in No Sand has the personal yet apocalyptic tone of a Cormac McCarthy protagonist who's self-aware of their fated doom, but will still beautifully describe the grotesque paths that lead them to the end. The haunting begins in the womb at an alcoholic grandfather's funeral, where "they gave me his name and scraped it into my liver." The inspiration begins on a young addict's would-be deathbed, where salvation is found through "bedsweat, and a dry brain whimpering: Exist exist exist." The struggle for survival is this poet's muse. And like flea-infested stray cats, you cannot resist but to let these poems onto your porch and have them peer into the darkness of your own demons.
—Sean Lynch, editor at Moonstone Press
In No Sand, he illuminates the contours of that particularly rough road, that labyrinthine path in which he seems to fight his own desire for connection and comfort.
—Tucker Lieberman, author of Bad Fire
About the author
Joseph Sigurdson’s work has appeared in Jelly Bucket, Allegheny Review, Gandy Dancer, Great Lake Review, and elsewhere. He won a College Prize from The Academy of American Poets in 2018. He’s from Buffalo, New York and is currently a graduate student in Mississippi.