Bull City Press
@bullcitypress.com
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Small press publisher of poetry, fiction, & creative nonfiction chapbooks located in Durham, NC | est. 2006 | bullcitypress.com | linktr.ee/bullcitypress | posts by @noahstetzer.bsky.social, @amelialoeffler.bsky.social, & @rosswhite.com
![Book sits on my (black-dress-clothed) lap, on an airplane.
Cover image (by Eli Afram) is a very zoomed-in (as if viewed through a microscope) asterisk-shaped snowflake taking up a whole windowpane (while the other few windowpanes, only partially seen, are fogged or frosted in a “normal” way) against a wintry night tree line.
Text, centered, in black, near the bottom edge, reads:
[small, ital.]poems
[larger]JENNY GEORGE](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:u2v3xos3vdyjm6ypwksdwi24/bafkreic3vqyxvz3y5eqin3rhlpwsjps2aa7nom7cpunadtihthdhuueiza)
![Book sits on silver platter etched with little stars.
Cover art is Robert Henry’s painting “Bird & Man II.” Lower half depicts a ground-sitting human figure, bent forward over raised knees, painted in dark silhouette over a red swath of background (suggestive of a plateau?). Upper half depicts a large dark bird perched in profile, facing the same direction as the human, over a pink/beige swath of sky.
In contrasting & complementary colors to the paining & evenly distributed over it in slightly dancing, slightly different sized text:
THREE
SYLLABLES
DESCRIBING
ADDICTION
[smaller] poems
[big again] KATE
DANIELS](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:u2v3xos3vdyjm6ypwksdwi24/bafkreigyxdgzgy2f6iq2uexxb5wnma5pjlcyg3j2n3hfuwy2oondczj6ym)
![Poem on p 36 of Daniels’s Three Syllables Describing Addiction reads
DRIED FLOWERS: VISION AT A
HALFWAY HOUSE
When the full-flowering blossoms of early spring
Are at their prime, slice them from their stems
While they are still pliable and gorgeous. Before
They murder themselves with their own dark beauty.
Then bind them up in loose bunches, and carry them
Inside to the dry heat of a dark back room where
Televisions run all day, and cigarettes burn
Unheeded in ashtrays. Outside, the unchosen blooms
Have overtaken the garden. They will go on dying
Naturally, and in their time. But here inside,
The chosen few are stored away, instructed to rest
For as long as it will take to achieve the dried-out state
That mimics life and keeps them breathing. Humming
Their tuneless tune: [ital.]Not using. Not using. Not using.](https://cdn.bsky.app/img/feed_thumbnail/plain/did:plc:u2v3xos3vdyjm6ypwksdwi24/bafkreib25f26fj5yedkeqbtdkjs36jvlqvohdbg3hsvmydc57ulmedlxnq)
