If Your Lungs Are Skyed Make the Scar Song Echo Until All the Winged Things Bleed Your Poetry
Steven Karl


PREORDER begins June 5, 2023
July 2023
5.75 x 8 inches | 24 pages

150 numbered copies

Hand-pulled screen print cover with hand-carved linocut lettering
Speedball Inks on Gmund Colors 111 lb. Cover Stock in Seedling Green
Digitally Printed Interior on French Paper Co. Whitewash Construction 70 lb Text
Hand sewn in natural twine

Thank you, readers, for your incredible support of Bloof’s handmade series. Full series subscriptions are sold out, but you can create your own custom bundle with the books that remain!

Note: Individually printed by hand in small batches, no two covers will be exactly alike. Expect some variation in color and placement across the edition. Preordered copies will begin shipping in mid June.

If Your Lungs Are Skyed Make the Scar Song Echo Until All the Winged Things Bleed Your Poetry is the fourth chapbook in the fifth series from Bloof Books. Each series chapbook is released in a limited edition of at least one hundred numbered copies, followed by a digital release, and eventually in a combination volume called Bound.

Steven Karl is the author of two collections of poetry, most recently, Sister (Noemi Press, 2016). From 2010–2020 he served as the Editor-in-chief for the online poetry journal Sink Review. Originally from Philadelphia, he divides his time between Boston and Tokyo.

52 in stock

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Failure reflect revision metacognition the dream
stuff of rhetoric while the bad manners of sleep

barely open an eye drift into revelries of some future
clown summer party—bass gutting the ribs floor sticky

with spilled thrill while waves crest white the horizon
an attempt to get to a version of ourselves

other than the one here—to construct a cement wall
b/c yours felt monolith in an otherwise yawn of morning

spectacle of graffiti—an attempt to give back what
it was given—too much in a rush to receive, it’s okay

a garden unattended remains a reminder of a garden
attended—the fantasy of future self

caught midlife in mid laugh or
maybe I’m just letting you off easy as

it must be something singular to not ever
hear the whines of the ghosts you’re dragging

I’ll bear your burdens & sister I’ll
sing to your ghost the moth of your month

has for a long time been the month
mothing your haunting to adorn ourselves

as imagined others to eventually end
an evening gorging so many ordinary things

we were denied b/c—
I am thinking of my thinking

today revising my emotions restitching
my failures—I will song it for both of us

you never have to—self at an end
I regret—I regret

Additional information


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