Mayapple Press is a small literary press founded in 1978 by poet and editor Judith Kerman. We celebrate literature that is both challenging and accessible: poetry that transcends the categories of "mainstream" and "avant-garde"; women's writing; the Great Lakes/Northeastern culture; the recent immigrant experience; poetry in translation; science fiction poetry.
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Women Longing to Fly – Sara Kay Rupnik

Women Longing to Fly - Sara Kay Rupnik

Prose. Paper, Perfect Bound. 106 pages
2015, ISBN: 978-1-936419-50-0
$15.95 & S+H

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Women Longing to Fly is also available on Kindle

From Lila, who buys a handgun to ease her broken heart, to Maura, who takes a stranger to a motel, Women Longing to Fly contains stories of women on the brink. There is the Yankee-born mother trying to raise Southern children, and the daughter whose sister disappeared after the Kent

…….    Read more about Women Longing to Fly – Sara Kay Rupnik

Fever – John Repp

Fever - John Repp

Poetry. Paper, perfect bound, 36 pp.
$11.95 plus s&h
2007, ISBN 0-932412-52-1
ISBN+13 978-0932412-522

The poems in Fever sweat through the discontents of a love affair, a childhood, a marriage, a malfunctioning farm, the speaker’s aging father and his own illness. Dream and the gritty details of life flow together in the hallucinatory and yet grounded language of these short, sharp pieces, which form an integrated sequence with both unity and emotional range.

Air so wet breathing
by John Repp

Air so wet breathing
is work.

The long light of summer solstice
curls down vermilion in the west,

new love or promise of love or lust tempered
enough to spade this trodden earth

on her way, bearing wine & hunger
…….    Read more about Fever – John Repp

White Doe – John Repp

White Doe - John Repp

Paper, perfect bound, 40 pp
$8.50 plus s&h
2004, ISBN 0-932412-27-0

In these musical poems, John Repp’s Zen eye and moral sensibility transform the landscape of American home places and human relationships.

White Doe
by John Repp

Sleet driving down,
the white doe browses
in my rented field.

I take a step
& she bolts up the hill.

The buttery funk
of my morning beard,

the coppery tang
of my morning fear.

Out there, nothing
but wind shivering
the five leaves left
on the maple.

In here, dread
of the phone,
a friend’s joke,
the power

shutting off,
the next
step. Forget
reasons. Too

…….    Read more about White Doe – John Repp