A collection of Parks' poetry and photography.

Although Disposable Camera is Janet Foxman’s first book-length collection, one would not know it given the wry sophistication of the poems found within. The notion of the disposable camera permeates the entire book, where Foxman considers the instabilities in even our deepest attachments. Here gulfs expand, for instance, between twins, between the musician and his instrument, between the recluse and his inconsolable solitude. Whether a hermit; a twin; a filmgoer utterly taken with Triumph of the Will; or Masaccio, just after he’s painted the Expulsion—the poems’ speakers share a nagging anxiety that satisfaction may not exist outside the effort to imagine it, and that efforts at art and making, however compulsory to their executor, are probably regrettable from the start. A formally inventive and daring book, and one that displays a sophistication well beyond the poet’s years, Disposable Camera will be a valuable addition to American poetry.

Anyone who loves the movies--almost any kind of movie--will find something to laugh about and to think about with this unique volume. A wealth of popular poets, including May Swenson, Jack Kerouac, and Frank O'Connor, contribute more than 90 poems on movies, movie stars, moviemaking, and the moviegoing experience.

New York Times Bestselling Author of Solito "Every line resonates with a wind that crosses oceans."—Jamaal May "Zamora's work is real life turned into myth and myth made real life." —Glappitnova Javier Zamora was nine years old when he traveled unaccompanied 4,000 miles, across multiple borders, from El Salvador to the United States to be reunited with his parents. This dramatic and hope-filled poetry debut humanizes the highly charged and polarizing rhetoric of border-crossing; assesses borderland politics, race, and immigration on a profoundly personal level; and simultaneously remembers and imagines a birth country that's been left behind. Through an unflinching gaze, plainspoken diction, and a combination of Spanish and English, Unaccompanied crosses rugged terrain where families are lost and reunited, coyotes lead migrants astray, and "the thin white man let us drink from a hose / while pointing his shotgun." From "Let Me Try Again": He knew we weren't Mexican. He must've remembered his family coming over the border, or the border coming over them, because he drove us to the border and told us next time, rest at least five days, don't trust anyone calling themselves coyotes, bring more tortillas, sardines, Alhambra. He knew we would try again. And again—like everyone does. Javier Zamora was born in El Salvador and immigrated to the United States at the age of nine. He earned a BA at UC-Berkeley, an MFA at New York University, and is a 2016–2018 Wallace Stegner Fellow at Stanford University.

In this delightful collection of poems, the star of dozens of film classics now shares with his many fans the same old-fashioned decency, good common sense, and unabashed sentimentalism that he displayed on film. Two-color illustrations. (Poetry/Plays)

"When words in verse are paired with the awesomeness of nature, something magical happens ... Lewis curates [a] ... poetic celebration of the natural world in this ... collection of nature poems. From trickling streams to deafening thrunderstorms to soaring mountains, discover ... photography ... paired with contemporary (such as Billy Collins), classics (such as Robert Frost), and never-before-published works"--