The Chad Walsh Chapbook Series

The Wanderer
by 
Christine Gosnay
Christine Gosnay
Black and white photo of author Christine Gosnay.

The BPJ team is thrilled to announce that the 2019 title in the Chad Walsh Chapbook Series is Christine Gosnay's The Wanderer. Gosnay is the author of Even Years (Kent State University Press, 2017), winner of the Stan and Tom Wick Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in POETRY, The Missouri Review, The Poetry Review, New Ohio Review, and Third Coast Magazine, and has featured on Poetry Daily and Verse Daily. She lives in Maryland.

The collection, chosen by the editors, traces a powerful intellectual journey in the aftermath of loss. Co-editor Melissa Crowe writes, “Gosnay’s wide-ranging and incisive imagination draws from realms as varied as mythology, astronomy, and epistemology to dramatize the efforts of a sharp and hungry mind to cope with grief. In so doing, she offers up a vivid, wise, and innovative chapbook that provides immediate readerly pleasures and rewards our finest attention.”

When you subscribe to the BPJ, you’ll receive as part of your subscription a copy of the forthcoming chapbook in the series. Subscribe now to receive The Wanderer, due to ship in May, as your first issue. 

from 
The Wanderer

Stopping Alone in Gold Country

My eyes closed by the rapids,

where the leaves course downstream

with the sun, I can smell the soap we used.

The damp grime of the day’s closed hand

sits on me like a net.

We cast ourselves once into the deepest pool here,

where the water is colder than the moon.

Somebody’s horse throws its blond mane

in front of blonder grass.

Rocks bumping forever in greenery near the fork.

Some lemonwinged warbler lands on a stalk in the shallows.

What must it weigh?

When I close my eyes, yes,

everything makes its brief appeal.

But all this is unfamiliar to me.

The past skips its question in my head as it does—

asking me why I left before I had loved—

where the leaves course downstream with the sun.

My jeans pocket is full of lovely rocks

because I will never come here again.

My eyes closed by the rapids,

where the leaves course downstream

with the sun, I can smell the soap we used.

The damp grime of the day’s closed hand

sits on me like a net.

We cast ourselves once into the deepest pool here,

where the water is colder than the moon.

Somebody’s horse throws its blond mane

in front of blonder grass.

Rocks bumping forever in greenery near the fork.

Some lemonwinged warbler lands on a stalk in the shallows.

What must it weigh?

When I close my eyes, yes,

everything makes its brief appeal.

But all this is unfamiliar to me.

The past skips its question in my head as it does—

asking me why I left before I had loved—

where the leaves course downstream with the sun.

My jeans pocket is full of lovely rocks

because I will never come here again.

Chad Walsh (1914-1991), co-founder of the Beloit Poetry Journal.
Chad Walsh
1914 - 1991

The Chad Walsh Chapbook Series was established in 2018 with the support of Alison Walsh Sackett and her husband Paul in honor of Ms. Sackett's father, the poet Chad Walsh, a co-founder in 1950 of the Beloit Poetry Journal.

(From 1993-2017, the magazine awarded The Chad Walsh Prize to a single poem published during the previous year.) 

The series is open to any poet writing in English, regardless of publication history, and the poet whose manuscript we select receives $1000 and 50 author copies of their chapbook, which is distributed to BPJ subscribers and sold separately in a print run of approximately 1,500. See submission guidelines for more information.

Other Titles in the Series