Let’s make the ocean quiet. Or oh all
life smells of rush. How about we stay
in tonight and figure out nobility? Probably
there is somewhere where we were
meant to be, but we discovered cars.
Invented, I mean. We were halfway to
anti-matter when it all combusted. So
now the best we can muster is

a fumbling for touch, and I reach
with my hand and you are there,
your hand, face, temperature, and
hey, that is better. I’ll take that.
I'm going to have SEX with these people

Everyone seems really good

People are so beautiful man

Take for example this lady on the bus

Take everybody on the bus

Don’t forget to take the driver for example

All so beautiful all these people with like their coats and foibles


Take everyone outside the bus walking a dog

Take their dogs they’re nice people you know what I’m saying


If you’re on the bus heading into the wrong neighborhood who’s more scared you or the bee

I manufacture enemies because I’m so good natured in general I get scared


God is love said a t-shirt I used to wear believe that but dude your mama is seriously fat

This lady on the bus could pass for a man

She chewed half a cigarette in her mouth

Had jowls

She did knitting

From the back of the bus I loved this lady’s what is it

The young pro aside her smell sat repulsed

I liked that

Good job everyone

Thanks a lot you people 


Adam Robinson

Everyday Genius May 2014

During the month of May I was given the opportunity to edit Everyday Genius, which is part and parcel of Publishing Genius, What I love about EG is, because of its daily frequency, its commitment to risk as its own reward. What gets published might be ephemeral or profound, but it remains wholly distinct as a statement of its own day. 

I was given 22 days to curate. I chose to feature writers who are women. I loved being able to feature poem-collages from Harmony Holiday. I loved Ish Klein’s beautiful poem to her husband, Greg Purcell. I loved being at bar in town and Haley Thompson showing me a poem she was working on, getting real excited by it, and publishing it straight away. Francesca’s poem to her sister.Jennifer’s map. All of it. It brought me moved. 

Thank you to Adam Robinson & thank you to all the writers. This has been one of the most rewarding and pleasurable projects I’ve been involved in. Here is the issue:


Sara Nicholson

Ish Klein

Bianca Stone

Leopoldine Core

Jennifer Denrow

Wendy Xu

Jessica Bozek

Sadie Dupuis

Susan Briante

Emily Hunt

Julia Cohen

Shannon Tharp

Kelly Schirmann

Sara Renee Marshall

Harmony Holiday

Arda Collins

Hannah Brooks-Motl

Julie Doxsee

Lindsay Turner

Haley Rene Thompson

Amina Cain

Francesca Chabrier

or read the entire month of work as one long scroll.


Hi tumblr!

How are you today?

Did you know that LEFT has been available for preorder for two whole weeks now?

That means there’s only two weeks left (hehe) get it at the discounted price!

Also, thanks to the help of Adam Robinson of Publishing Genius, shipping to the US just got a lot cheaper =D

If you’re at all interested in the project I really encourage you to preorder it. It’s my favourite thing I’ve ever made and the more preorders I get, the more copies I can afford to print, the more widely I can distribute it, the more beauty there will be in the world.

At the moment I’m working as hard as I can to get reviews and other coverage in cool places. Like the Shabby Doll House Reader:

I have a few more cool things lined up that I’ll be able to show you soon but if you have any ideas for other ways to promote LEFT please get in touch with me at

I love you all very much <3

"Life Gets Dark," by Adam Robinson

There are two things that I care about most on a day-to-day level.
The first is for people to understand something about other people:
I want everyone to know that other people are very sad right now.
What’s worse is they are sad in general, watching out the window
on the various days and nights of their loneliness. Yes, lo,
all people are miserably sad, and even though they hurt you in particular,
even though you are thwarted at every turn by nimrods in big cars,
hotdogs with cleft chins, dipshits who have been well provided for,
it’s only because they are so miserably sad, because things don’t add up,
because life gets dark sometimes. It really does, no matter what. We lie in it.
The second thing I care about most is that nonsense, oh sweet Lord,
nonsense is some of the best stuff we’ve got going and it’s wrong,
it’s a profound devolution, to try to make everything make sense, like
here we got this and here we got that and let’s see mumble mumble Ah yes!
My friend The Ghost said he wants to make the mystery greater.
I just want to recognize that it’s a mystery, and I want to languish there,
taking deep breaths, like a hangover you endure best as you enjoy it.


from FENCE 


1. Our two gentle hosts, Sean Jean and Adam Robinson, and then my finger. The light was too much for my other fingers. Also, Mira’s book is in every picture. You’re welcome SorryHouse. THIS WAS A PUBLISHING GENUIS EVENT YO! 

2. Willis making some groove waves with party times and Ben Lerner jokes. If Joy Division made bricks and their bricks went towards a factory, that factory would be Willis’ poetry-repurposed-factory-turned -home.

3. Shaun Gannon. Please destroy the sky. Bring it down. No one likes it. And you will. One night.

4. This is pre-Hoover head smack. But what’s even funnier is that Matthew didn’t care. In fact he probably laughed harder than any yous there. I can still hear his squatting voice. Rule to the vise: don’t play soccer against Matthew Savoca.

5. Melissa Broder. I wish I had words to express things. Especially things about Melissa. She’ll be back Saturday, so you can have her explain it. Cause gheeze, so many thoughts and things.

6. And then there was the river god Matt Cook. On the thirtieth poem, Matt Cook’s sweat touched Karina, and she was happy. And we all were happy. This guy is making people believe in poetry again. We’ll miss you Milwaukee.

7. They all smelled great after. Look at the door action too. Things are going to be good. Everything can be good. Or at least available for observation

Adam Robinson

He Had Very Dark Skin

After work I was mugged in Baltimore’s Inner Harbor
I was waiting for the bus with thirty friends I hadn’t met yet
And perhaps I was playing too fast and loose with my new phone
It was my first smart phone so I was checking out the maps
I was zooming in and out of where I was just then standing
A high schooler snatched at my hand
“No,” I said and tightened my grip and he tightened his grip
I spun left I took a wide step into the threshold of a small store
The boy held tightly to my phone and me
I pulled the phone in toward my chest and dropped to my knee
Now two of his friends joined the attack, leveling blows at my back and arms
Perhaps ten seconds had passed this way
Someone took a Snapple bottle and smashed it upside my head
Then I don’t know what happened but the hoodlums fled south on Charles Street
I watched them for a second then ran north
I ran north for a block and turned west on Baltimore Street
A homeless man sitting on the sidewalk asked me for some change
I turned to face him my glasses coated in blood
He said, “Oh”
I kept walking thinking about how in Chicago
We used to wear cowboy hats and bandannas around our faces
How we would slowly follow joggers along Lake Michigan
I started to feel lightheaded and I got worried
My phone was still in my hand you can’t take that away from me
But since it was a new phone I didn’t know how to make a call
Shaking I struggled with it then finally dialed 911
They asked how old I was
Thirty-two I said but I was thirty-three
An ambulance came and the police came
The policeman asked me to describe the assailants
I said they were young
He said, “Were they light skinned or like me?”
He had very dark skin

Adam’s recommendation:

Rachel B. Glaser’s book, Moods, just out from the great Factory Hollow Press, is something I’ll be reading for a long time. It’s one of those books where the poems open wider every time you read them—which isn’t to say they’re obscure or dense. But, like her fiction, they are layered with humor and observation and an impressive social understanding. There are many “best parts” to Glaser’s writing, but chiefest among them is how well she understands and reports on human interaction—with each other, with our things, with our ideas good and bad. 

Visit Adam online at Publishing Genius


In celebration of Matthew Savoca’s new novel “I Don’t Know,” I Said (pre-order now for $9) being released later this week on Tuesday, April 9th, this is going to be Matthew Savoca week at Scrambler. I was lucky enough to get an advanced reader copy (show off) thanks to Adam at Publishing Genius and I think that this book is great. I have a more official review of IDKIS forthcoming from Metazen but until then, this week I will offer excerpts, thoughts, links, and an interview with Matthew regarding this book.

Above are 3 photos: the cover of the ARC (eagle sticker not included), the first page of the novel that basically sets the tone for the entire book (may be slightly different than final published version), and a cartoon filtered version of the back cover of the ARC which is basically Matthew’s head/hair.

I consider Matthew a good friend. But even if I didn’t know him personally, I would still like this book a lot. And I highly recommend it to anyone reading this. I hope something from this week moves you to buy his book, because it is definitely worth more than $9. Pre-order now.

One Truth For Every Person

What is the smallest amount of money you would pick up off the street?

Even if the street was really dirty?

I pick it all up, a penny.

The other day I saw a penny and a few steps later thought I should go back for it, but I didn’t.

I was with somebody, and it was only a penny.

If I had taken maybe just half a step, I would have turned, bent, pocketed.

How far back would you walk to get that smallest amount of money you would pick up?

I think it was Monday I saw this penny, tucked into a patch of grass along the sidewalk. Now it’s Thursday, and it’s cold, and I have a little cough.

But maybe I could figure out where it was.

If I didn’t have so much to do in this life, I would go back for it.

A really interesting person would do that. Maybe one day I would meet him or her and ask what he or she did for work.

To which this interesting person would respond, “It’s not really a job, but I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to find a penny I passed, but it wasn’t shiny and it was tucked into a patch of grass.”

“Before that,” this person would say, “I spent a while stacking rocks down by the falls. Last year I invented a new sort of composting toilet.”

Actually, thinking about it now, I am glad that I did not pick up that penny.

Because then while talking to this person, hands in my pocket, I would rub my found penny, meeting his or her eye, nodding like everything was normal, inside panicking.

Adam Robinson

excerpt from 'The Haberdash' by Adam Robinson


When I’m reading a book
and some character at a party
gets up to leave and, as he leaves,
“gathers up his hat,” say,
“from a cloak room,” say,
then I get all unsettled in my quiet.
I want too to get up. My heart,
a little Russian pig, gets going. 

Suddenly I want to be the one to leave a party.
Maybe life imitates art after all. But
maybe not, and for that reflection,
I’d like to thank the Laudermilk family,
of Skaneateles, NY and their Ice Cream Socials
where we would go after church and socially
pile our coats and hats and things up
on Ruthie’s bed. She was their youngest.
Then later we would leave, and
when we would leave, God bless
my everlasting soul, we would
rummage through that American pile—
all of our friends’ coats
with who knows what in their pockets—
pregnancy tests, cigarette papers,
an apple core, a cat’s eye.
I am cowed by trust—
we’d retrieve our hats and leave.
Into that dark night
on hilly roads
Adam Robinson
Publishing Genius 2.0

OK, so this Kickstarter is currently KICKING ASS, and they probably don’t need a little write-up from The Bushwick Review to reach their goal, but honestly I hope they exceed their goal, so they can do even more awesome things than they’ve already planned. If this post can even bring $1 or simply just cheer them on, then I’m going to go for it. Cause more Kickstarter money = Publishing Genius books will get an even larger print run, as well as more publicity and advertising. These things add up to bringing more readers to good books written by good writers who have worked hard on them, which is good for the world.

There’s a certain type of feeling that I get from some small presses or record labels like Publishing Genius that’s really pleasing, but hard to describe. It happens when a small press feels more like an intriguing community or family, a cool club, rather than just a place that publishes things. It seems the writers and artists published by Publishing Genius are friends, they hang out, maybe they collaborate on creative projects together. They interview each other and say generous things about each other.

Publishing Genius creates its own world for itself and like-minded people. Things are done with care, well curated with a concern for good design and the entire environment. It’s a press with a catalog that I enjoy browsing online, learning about new writers they publish, looking at the covers. Adam Robinson and his team try different business models for releasing books, which don’t just seem like business models, they seem like exciting activities to get books out there in a creative ways. All these elements add up to make me feel very positively about Publishing Genius, so I like to keep up on what they’re doing and support them. Most of all, they’ve published some books I’ve read and highly enjoyed. And I’ll be getting another book by them soon, because I’m a backer. You should be a backer too.

Mm, no, darling, you wouldn’t recall the time I tattooed the word ‘no’ on my wrist with a sewing needle jammed into the end of a number two pencil, and for a couple of reasons:

1) I never finished, and I barely started. Two pokes in, I guess I lost the motivation, realized the futility of it all. No, not in regards to marking myself with my favorite word, but I suppose I found myself thinking on a larger scale; y'know, past the needle and past my wrist. Do you understand what I mean? Sometimes I worry no one quite understands what I mean… but most of the time I wouldn’t have it any other way. Does that make sense, dear? I hope not. No… I hope so. Indecision runs rampant today. I’ll suffice it to say: I hope it makes sense to you, but nobody else–and that’s that.
2) You weren’t there.

—  Garret and Letterbox by Adam Robinson