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  Dialogues: 36 Photographs & 20 Poems  is a new publication from 205-A and the first book in a series that explores the intersection between photography and poetry.    The publishers, Aaron Stern and Jordan Sullivan worked in collaboration with poets Tom Sleigh and Will Schutt to bring together these unique pairings.  The book features the photography of Ed van der Elsken, Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb, Alain Laboile, Emma Phillips, Mark Borthwick, Brian Merriam, Coley Brown, Jordan Sullivan and Aaron Stern.  The publishers worked to pair these images with the poetry of David Rivard, Tom Sleigh, Alan Shapiro, Roberto Bolaño, Jordan Sullivan, Will Schutt, Arseny Tarkovsky, Rose McLarney, Mark Borthwick, Michael Collier and David Wagoner.       Available at Dashwood Books in New York City - click  HERE

Dialogues: 36 Photographs & 20 Poems is a new publication from 205-A and the first book in a series that explores the intersection between photography and poetry.  

The publishers, Aaron Stern and Jordan Sullivan worked in collaboration with poets Tom Sleigh and Will Schutt to bring together these unique pairings.  The book features the photography of Ed van der Elsken, Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb, Alain Laboile, Emma Phillips, Mark Borthwick, Brian Merriam, Coley Brown, Jordan Sullivan and Aaron Stern.

The publishers worked to pair these images with the poetry of David Rivard, Tom Sleigh, Alan Shapiro, Roberto Bolaño, Jordan Sullivan, Will Schutt, Arseny Tarkovsky, Rose McLarney, Mark Borthwick, Michael Collier and David Wagoner.  

 

Available at Dashwood Books in New York City - click HERE

 Photography by Rebecca Norris Webb & Poetry by Tom Sleigh      BEFORE RAIN     Whatever you do, there are rockets falling, and after the rockets, smoke climbing     up through walls that are exploding. Trees grow up where there once were people, weeds     take over beds of lettuces and coddled flowers, uprearing mole hills unpopulate the fields.     The bricked-in hours of the human have all been knocked down.     No one lingers at lipstick counters, no one stares into a screen to escape the digital mayhem     of heroes hurdling over the heads of monsters.     The old bones on the mountain that stand upright and shake when winds blow up from the shore,     old bones that shake when the winds roar now dangle in the void of an unknown dimension. Forget all this, says Earth to the stars.     

Photography by Rebecca Norris Webb & Poetry by Tom Sleigh

 

BEFORE RAIN

Whatever you do, there are rockets falling, and after the rockets, smoke climbing

up through walls that are exploding.
Trees grow up where there once were people, weeds

take over beds of lettuces and coddled flowers, uprearing mole hills unpopulate the fields.

The bricked-in hours of the human have all been knocked down.

No one lingers at lipstick counters, no one
stares into a screen to escape the digital mayhem

of heroes hurdling over the heads of monsters.

The old bones on the mountain that stand upright and shake when winds blow up from the shore,

old bones that shake when the winds roar
now dangle in the void of an unknown dimension. Forget all this, says Earth to the stars. 

 

 Photography by Alain Laboile & Poetry by David Rivard

Photography by Alain Laboile & Poetry by David Rivard

 Photography by Aaron Stern & Poetry by David Wagoner      JUST AROUND THE CORNER     That’s where love is, the old song says, and maybe other kinds of surprises,     all kinds of abrupt experiences and how can they fault you if you hesitate at the edge     of the brick wall and hold out on the end of a stick, shakily, a felt hat or a helmet     or a white handkerchief as a tactical equivalent of a personal appearance     in the flesh and bone or how can they blame you if you wait right there,     still out of sight, thinking of this, that, and something or other as long as you can,     or if you sit down for a spell on the sidewalk with your back against that wall     in case somebody else would like to take your turn at turning the corner     or if you simply decide to stand on your own two feet and go back where you came from? 

Photography by Aaron Stern & Poetry by David Wagoner

 

JUST AROUND THE CORNER

That’s where love is,
the old song says, and maybe other kinds of surprises,

all kinds of abrupt experiences and how can they fault you
if you hesitate at the edge

of the brick wall and hold out on the end of a stick, shakily, a felt hat or a helmet

or a white handkerchief as a tactical equivalent of a personal appearance

in the flesh and bone
or how can they blame you if you wait right there,

still out of sight, thinking of this, that, and something or other as long as you can,

or if you sit down
for a spell on the sidewalk
with your back against that wall

in case somebody else would like to take your turn at turning the corner

or if you simply decide
to stand on your own two feet
and go back where you came from? 

 Photography & Poetry by Jordan Sullivan

Photography & Poetry by Jordan Sullivan

 Photography by Alex Webb & Poetry by Will Schutt       A PICTURE OF PARADISE     That’s the life: the sun petting the swayback boat and the beach a pinch of turmeric. You can scan the bay for tension yet even the sail tucked into the mast looks like icing round the rounds of cakes they must be washing down with sparkling wine in white linen, or off-white linen, their legs straight as spars, their faces forward-facing, trian- gular flags minus the ping of pulleys being beaten by west-going winds. Like Dante, we get tongue-tied in heaven: Everyone surfs on waves of celestial music. They surf. Everyone is free, bound for nowhere. 

Photography by Alex Webb & Poetry by Will Schutt 

 

A PICTURE OF PARADISE

That’s the life: the sun petting the swayback boat and the beach a pinch of turmeric. You can scan the bay for tension yet even the sail tucked into the mast looks like icing round the rounds of cakes they must be washing down with sparkling wine in white linen, or off-white linen, their legs straight as spars, their faces forward-facing, trian- gular flags minus the ping of pulleys being beaten by west-going winds. Like Dante, we get tongue-tied in heaven: Everyone surfs on waves of celestial music. They surf. Everyone is free, bound for nowhere. 

 Photography by Ed van der Elsken & Poetry by Roberto Bolaño   MY GIFT TO YOU     My gift to you will be an abyss, she said, but it will be so subtle you’ll perceive it only after many years have passed and you are far from Mexico and me. You’ll find it when you need it most, and that won’t be     the happy ending, but it will be an instant of emptiness and joy. And maybe then you’ll remember me, if only just a little. 

Photography by Ed van der Elsken & Poetry by Roberto Bolaño

MY GIFT TO YOU

My gift to you will be an abyss, she said, but it will be so subtle you’ll perceive it only after many years have passed
and you are far from Mexico and me. You’ll find it when you need it most, and that won’t be

the happy ending,
but it will be an instant of emptiness and joy. And maybe then you’ll remember me,
if only just a little. 

 The Paris Review, Click  HERE  to read the full Interview 

The Paris Review, Click HERE to read the full Interview 

 The New York Times, Sunday Styles  Click  HERE  to read the article

The New York Times, Sunday Styles

Click HERE to read the article

 The New York Times T Magazine

The New York Times T Magazine

Dialogues: 36 Photographs & 20 Poems is a new publication from 205-A and the first book in a series that explores the intersection between photography and poetry.  

The publishers, Aaron Stern and Jordan Sullivan worked in collaboration with poets Tom Sleigh and Will Schutt to bring together these unique pairings.  The book features the photography of Ed van der Elsken, Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb, Alain Laboile, Emma Phillips, Mark Borthwick, Brian Merriam, Coley Brown, Jordan Sullivan and Aaron Stern.

The publishers worked to pair these images with the poetry of David Rivard, Tom Sleigh, Alan Shapiro, Roberto Bolaño, Jordan Sullivan, Will Schutt, Arseny Tarkovsky, Rose McLarney, Mark Borthwick, Michael Collier and David Wagoner.  

 

Available at Dashwood Books in New York City - click HERE

Photography by Rebecca Norris Webb & Poetry by Tom Sleigh

 

BEFORE RAIN

Whatever you do, there are rockets falling, and after the rockets, smoke climbing

up through walls that are exploding.
Trees grow up where there once were people, weeds

take over beds of lettuces and coddled flowers, uprearing mole hills unpopulate the fields.

The bricked-in hours of the human have all been knocked down.

No one lingers at lipstick counters, no one
stares into a screen to escape the digital mayhem

of heroes hurdling over the heads of monsters.

The old bones on the mountain that stand upright and shake when winds blow up from the shore,

old bones that shake when the winds roar
now dangle in the void of an unknown dimension. Forget all this, says Earth to the stars. 

 

Photography by Alain Laboile & Poetry by David Rivard

Photography by Aaron Stern & Poetry by David Wagoner

 

JUST AROUND THE CORNER

That’s where love is,
the old song says, and maybe other kinds of surprises,

all kinds of abrupt experiences and how can they fault you
if you hesitate at the edge

of the brick wall and hold out on the end of a stick, shakily, a felt hat or a helmet

or a white handkerchief as a tactical equivalent of a personal appearance

in the flesh and bone
or how can they blame you if you wait right there,

still out of sight, thinking of this, that, and something or other as long as you can,

or if you sit down
for a spell on the sidewalk
with your back against that wall

in case somebody else would like to take your turn at turning the corner

or if you simply decide
to stand on your own two feet
and go back where you came from? 

Photography & Poetry by Jordan Sullivan

Photography by Alex Webb & Poetry by Will Schutt 

 

A PICTURE OF PARADISE

That’s the life: the sun petting the swayback boat and the beach a pinch of turmeric. You can scan the bay for tension yet even the sail tucked into the mast looks like icing round the rounds of cakes they must be washing down with sparkling wine in white linen, or off-white linen, their legs straight as spars, their faces forward-facing, trian- gular flags minus the ping of pulleys being beaten by west-going winds. Like Dante, we get tongue-tied in heaven: Everyone surfs on waves of celestial music. They surf. Everyone is free, bound for nowhere. 

Photography by Ed van der Elsken & Poetry by Roberto Bolaño

MY GIFT TO YOU

My gift to you will be an abyss, she said, but it will be so subtle you’ll perceive it only after many years have passed
and you are far from Mexico and me. You’ll find it when you need it most, and that won’t be

the happy ending,
but it will be an instant of emptiness and joy. And maybe then you’ll remember me,
if only just a little. 

The Paris Review, Click HERE to read the full Interview 

The New York Times, Sunday Styles

Click HERE to read the article

The New York Times T Magazine

  Dialogues: 36 Photographs & 20 Poems  is a new publication from 205-A and the first book in a series that explores the intersection between photography and poetry.    The publishers, Aaron Stern and Jordan Sullivan worked in collaboration with poets Tom Sleigh and Will Schutt to bring together these unique pairings.  The book features the photography of Ed van der Elsken, Alex Webb and Rebecca Norris Webb, Alain Laboile, Emma Phillips, Mark Borthwick, Brian Merriam, Coley Brown, Jordan Sullivan and Aaron Stern.  The publishers worked to pair these images with the poetry of David Rivard, Tom Sleigh, Alan Shapiro, Roberto Bolaño, Jordan Sullivan, Will Schutt, Arseny Tarkovsky, Rose McLarney, Mark Borthwick, Michael Collier and David Wagoner.       Available at Dashwood Books in New York City - click  HERE
 Photography by Rebecca Norris Webb & Poetry by Tom Sleigh      BEFORE RAIN     Whatever you do, there are rockets falling, and after the rockets, smoke climbing     up through walls that are exploding. Trees grow up where there once were people, weeds     take over beds of lettuces and coddled flowers, uprearing mole hills unpopulate the fields.     The bricked-in hours of the human have all been knocked down.     No one lingers at lipstick counters, no one stares into a screen to escape the digital mayhem     of heroes hurdling over the heads of monsters.     The old bones on the mountain that stand upright and shake when winds blow up from the shore,     old bones that shake when the winds roar now dangle in the void of an unknown dimension. Forget all this, says Earth to the stars.     
 Photography by Alain Laboile & Poetry by David Rivard
 Photography by Aaron Stern & Poetry by David Wagoner      JUST AROUND THE CORNER     That’s where love is, the old song says, and maybe other kinds of surprises,     all kinds of abrupt experiences and how can they fault you if you hesitate at the edge     of the brick wall and hold out on the end of a stick, shakily, a felt hat or a helmet     or a white handkerchief as a tactical equivalent of a personal appearance     in the flesh and bone or how can they blame you if you wait right there,     still out of sight, thinking of this, that, and something or other as long as you can,     or if you sit down for a spell on the sidewalk with your back against that wall     in case somebody else would like to take your turn at turning the corner     or if you simply decide to stand on your own two feet and go back where you came from? 
 Photography & Poetry by Jordan Sullivan
 Photography by Alex Webb & Poetry by Will Schutt       A PICTURE OF PARADISE     That’s the life: the sun petting the swayback boat and the beach a pinch of turmeric. You can scan the bay for tension yet even the sail tucked into the mast looks like icing round the rounds of cakes they must be washing down with sparkling wine in white linen, or off-white linen, their legs straight as spars, their faces forward-facing, trian- gular flags minus the ping of pulleys being beaten by west-going winds. Like Dante, we get tongue-tied in heaven: Everyone surfs on waves of celestial music. They surf. Everyone is free, bound for nowhere. 
 Photography by Ed van der Elsken & Poetry by Roberto Bolaño   MY GIFT TO YOU     My gift to you will be an abyss, she said, but it will be so subtle you’ll perceive it only after many years have passed and you are far from Mexico and me. You’ll find it when you need it most, and that won’t be     the happy ending, but it will be an instant of emptiness and joy. And maybe then you’ll remember me, if only just a little. 
 The Paris Review, Click  HERE  to read the full Interview 
 The New York Times, Sunday Styles  Click  HERE  to read the article
 The New York Times T Magazine