Mantises, Leaf Blowers, and a Cover Reveal

It's fall, y'all.

In the autumn night,
Breaking into
A pleasant chat.

–Bashō

Dear Reader,

I got older a couple of weeks ago. And I’ve been feeling it. What’s more absurd than arthritis in one’s big toe? Meanwhile, the fall has started to move in. Despite what the Illinois Fall Foliage Map says, fall color has already started in the city, causing my retired neighbor to get out with his leaf blower (pluses and minuses). And my garden has started to put on its late-season fashion: The dahlias are looming tall and will remain in full color until a lengthy frost. The mystery squash that sprang up from last year’s compost has snaked its vines around anything that stays still long enough. Gigantic grasshoppers and mantises are camouflaged among the overflowing ruffage. And the rose bushes are still putting on a show (If I had known that roses would be among the first and very last things to bloom in the garden, I would have become a rose gardener much sooner).

Yet, like so many things this year, the garden has felt off. The strawberries nearly nonexistent. The tomatoes blighted. And, I’ve felt similarly off—possessed of a certain restless anxiety, pinballing between exhaustion and manic energy. That feeling of the need to do something and trying to choose among all the somethings that could be done. When everything is on fire, where do you start?

My answer has certainly not been my own poems, and so it was almost startling to receive an email from Tupelo containing the page proofs for The Book of Marys and Glaciers and realize it was time to actually call these poems finished.

I’ve returned to reading Knausgård’s My Struggle, and one of the things that sticks with me the most about reading him is how easily he writes about self-loathing. It’s just plain there on the page, as simple and straightforward as any quotidian detail. A passerby is wearing a scarf as easily as he is wearing his loathing. I am, in a way, envious of that honesty. Part of me wonders if it’s gendered. As a woman, as a poet, how is it that it takes me many more words to express that kind of self-discontent? Am I building architecture to prevent a kind of bare vulnerability?

I was thinking about this a lot when going through the final edits on the proofs. To be honest (which seems extra appropriate here), I gave these proofs a level of close attention that I never had with my four books before. It’s not because I thought these poems were less finished than the others, but it’s more so because reading the poems on the page has always felt like listening to a recording or watching a video of myself. I have the same recoil. I can’t do it. I don’t. Reading them aloud for an audience is different. There’s an element of performance that I can embrace as a form of distance and protection. But in this final stage, before the poems become fully real as a book, I have trouble confronting myself there on the page, even under those words and all that dressy architecture. Do I fear that I may decide in that last moment that this book should not exist, is not good enough to exist?

But this time, with my feline friend Maya at my side on the chaise lounge, I faced those pages head-on, and they will find their way into the world this spring underneath the stunning package of this beautiful cover, which I’m excited to reveal.

Visit the book page and preorder with the code UCPNEW to take 30% off.

Thank you, as always, for reading. Sending warmth!

—Carrie

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This Month’s Recipe: Pretzel Dogs

Wait, what?! Like Auntie Anne’s at the airport? Yes, you read that right. I’ve long been pretzel dog curious. As a Chicagoan, I like hot dogs. As a New Yorker, I like big, soft pretzels. Putting them together makes sense, but I’ve never actually stopped to try one.

This season at the farmer’s market, I’ve spent a lot of time walking past a vendor with a very long line whose table of goods includes bagel dogs. And, of course, as a human, I love Everything Bagel spice. So, why not put all these joyous things together? And why not avoid waiting in line for it? So, I give you the Everything Bagel Spiced Pretzel Dog, which I made for Labor Day and seems perfect for welcoming in the cozy autumnal days ahead.

Here, as usual, is your foundational recipe, which I halved to make 8 pretzels to perfectly match a package of hot dogs. And, obviously, I swapped out the salt for some homemade Everything Bagel spice (kosher salt, dried onion, dried garlic, poppy seeds, and sesame seeds). Pair these with some homemade mustard (trust me, you’ll never buy mustard again), and you’re set.

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Upcoming Poetry & Biscuits Reading

Mark your calendars! And send me your ideas for readers!

September 26, 2025: Alyx Chandler, Liam Heneghan, and Christine Poreba

November 21, 2025: Lily Brown, Joseph Peterson, Donna Vorreyer, and Emma Wood

January 30, 2026: Laura Paul, Paul Martinez Pompa, Dawn Tefft, and Sandra Ruiz