The DrunkSkull Diaries: Rantings & Ravings From A Small Press Nobody


Who The Hell Is This Guy?

First I want to thank Skye, Nicole, and the rest of the fine folks of Tractor Brewing Co. for the opportunity to hi-jack this blog.

My name’s Hosho McCreesh, a Burque-born “small press nobody.” I’ve been writing since before graduating from UNM, and  A Deep & Gorgeous Thirst  is my 11th book. Here’s my website — drop in and give it a look.

Now, “why a small press nobody?” I’ve never had an agent, or published on a press with wide distribution (until now). You won’t find my books on the shelves in most bookstores, and you’ve probably never seen my name anywhere. The small press mostly consists of one-horse presses with one madman or madwoman at the helm, doing single little everything themselves. A couple presses I know spend long hours over a gnashing old letterpress, making, printing, and binding books from scratch. They are deeply committed artisans — and they’re lucky to break even on the gorgeous books they create.

Without getting too terribly high up on a soapbox (yet), I do want to say that, to me, poetry is in the smallest moments of every day. It’s an unexpected kind word from a stranger; a deep exhale after finishing a tough job. There are a hundred poems in how a janitor ties a garbage can liner during a long hard day of thankless work, or in one of the crafted beers Tractor continually blesses us with. For too long we’ve been told poetry is some kind of magic, nebulous, unnameable thing — some kind of mystical incantation — something only a desperate few can understand, and even fewer can write.

This is a blatant lie.

You are poetry. And so is that guy. And that girl. It’s everyone on that bus, or in that elevator, or sitting over there laughing too loud. The world is filled with poems — unwritten and ignored. By seeing poetry in others, can we learn to better appreciate it in ourselves. I’ve long held that art is one way to reconcile ourselves with our own fragile mortality. It’s a way to avoid squandering the joy and heartbreak we’re given. And I’m excited to have this opportunity to introduce you to my book, to brag up the many virtues of the small press, and generally yap a little about poetry. I’ll share links to the gorgeous wares some really terrific small presses put out and I’ll share a “DrunkSkull Approved” reading list. All leading up to the official release party.

Until then, thank you for the chance to say hello. I look forward to rubbing elbows with this fine, fine cadre of joyous and literate drunks!


PS – I’ll also be sharing a few sample poems from the book to hopefully give you a taste. Fair warning: some of the poems work a little blue…

From A Deep & Gorgeous Thirst

And when you

walk in, your buddy

is in the middle of his

glorious story about

the time he was

zonked on mushrooms

and broken down

out on a lonesome

desert highway.


“The kind where you’d

sell your soul to the devil,”

he says, and he says it was cold,

so cold, and they’d busted

a drive shaft on the truck,

so they were walking

back to town

swaddled in the

sheepskin seat covers.


“Like human burritos,

with our heads sticking out of

the headrest holes,” he says.


And the girls are all

riveted, and wide-eyed,

and laughing when

one of them

finally notices you.


“Hey, how are you?” she says.


“Oh, hell…I don’t know,” you say,

“fair to middling, I guess.

Just trying to make my way

through this hard

goddamned life.”


And she gives you a

curious little look.

“Well well well,” she says,

“let me guess—

you must be

the writer.”


And you smile,

take a hero-gulp

of your first Guinness

without breaking

eye contact with

this saucy minx,

this cute girl

you’ve decided to

be in love with