Notes on the New York poetry scene

The poetry scene in New York seems to be as divided as that of San Francisco. There are the "Slammers," with their ubiquitous phrasing, standard rhythm and common subject matter; there are the "Shuckers," who rave about lusting after 14 years olds or find weird/semi-obscene/drug-and-or-drink-related stories about other people to tell; there are the "Columbia-vers," whose goal in life is to have more poems published in the New Yorker during their lifetime than Mark Strand.

Three Rooms Press is not associated with any of these cliques. We embrace all forms of verse, and would just as soon weep over a beautiful Shakespeare sonnet as down a shot of Jack after reading an inspired Bukowski poem.

Sometimes things just hit you. It's like falling in love.