Announcing a Poetry Broadside Contest
We're launching a broadside contest this fall! It will run Oct 1-31, with the winner announced in January, and the poetry broadside produced in spring 2026. Subscribe to our newsletter in the meantime (via popup or footer) and you'll get a good sense of what we make, how we work, and be first to know when submissions open. Read on for the story of why we're running a contest, and why now.
I’ve been thinking about doing a poetry broadside contest for years. At least 7 or 8 years? Ever since my sister suggested a contest as a good way to get the word out about my press and invite new folks to submit. But submissions proved to be more than I could manage — even just unsolicited submissions. I got overwhelmed, with so little time to read, and an immediate, obligatory feeling of having to respond to anyone who contacted me ever. So at some point I decided no, I am not a publisher; I am an artist. And I explicitly stopped accepting any submissions. Which has been good for me in many ways. I am one person, making art with words that move me, mostly written by others.
In the years since, I have prioritized building relationships and a permission process instead of managing submissions. I’ve learned to embrace the simplicity and vulnerability of my selection criteria: I have to love the words in order to print them. Because it’s so much of my time, and it’s hard to design things I’m not moved by, and even harder to sell them. But if I love something — if I have a big feeling and can’t get it out of my head, if I feel that certain tug at my heartstrings, with my mind trailing behind… then I know I can make something both beautiful and useful, and so what if it sells or not. That’s the thing about being an artist — you better make art you like, regardless if you think anyone else is going to! Because you’re the one stuck with it.
So for the most part, it’s worked well for me not to accept submissions. I’ve gotten good at telling poets face to face that they can send me something, but that it’s unlikely I’ll have the time to read it or be interested in printing it. I respond to out-of-the-blue inquiries with a simple thank you, but no. This has allowed me to sink deeper into my own reading, say yes to collaborations with publishers and literary orgs, and reach out to poets and presses, whether known or unknown, when I find something I’d love to print. It’s allowed me to spend equal time on projects with very different prospects re: sales. Which has been lovely, and I’m proud of the catalog I’ve built and the relationships it’s built upon. What luck to get to do this work!
But there’s a catch, a rub, an issue I’m aware of more each year — there is bias built into what comes across my desk and makes it into my TBR pile. I do seek out work by people different from me, by poets I don’t know, published by presses I haven’t worked with. But I am one person, and a busy person. I have the privilege and luck to be connected with a lot of folks in the literary community who recommend books and authors; I peruse library shelves and local bookstores; I try to pay attention to what’s coming out from presses that I love and respect.
When I think about how I find new things to read, it’s mostly word of mouth — some direct, some indirect. And then I think of the grim warning from the founder of a local nonprofit, 10 years in, struggling with accessibility and equity issues: “You know what’s a really great way to grow a non-diverse organization? Word of mouth.” Of course, that depends on who you know and where you’re from. But it resonated with me and still does. It brings up this question of connection. How do we connect with people we don’t know, beyond our established communities? It’s hard. Shoot, it’s hard to connect with people you do know! Poetry of course helps people connect, which is a core reason I spend so much time working to share it.
This contest is a way for me to open the doors and ask people to share it back. I hope to hear from my current readers, followers, authors, and colleagues — absolutely. But I also really want to hear from new folks. I want to get a flood of new poems, yes, and I want to connect with all the people behind those poems (which is why you’ll get added to Expedition’s newsletter when you submit! But no worries, hop off any time). The goal of this broadside contest is connection. A widening of my reading horizons and broadening of community. I plan to make it annual. I want to fling open the proverbial doors to my little printshop and invite any and every poet to send some words you’ve deeply held and put together into a poem. Even if you don’t identify as a poet. Students hugely welcome, people of all identities, all ages and abilities. I am excited to read what you’ve been writing.
The final selection of what gets printed will be up to me, and will come down to the question of what I love and what I can visualize as a poetry broadside in my mind’s eye. Highly subjective, yes. Utterly personal. As I’ve said before, I’ve come to embrace the particulars of what I’m personally drawn to, and give over to them fully — time and again this has allowed me to create vulnerable work that speaks to universal aspects of human experience, often far beyond my own.
So send me your poems! In October. I look forward to reading them.
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Contest rules and submission info will be posted on our site shortly. Again, please subscribe to our newsletter via the popup or footer to be in the know.
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Photos by Jovelle Tamayo except second to last of bookshelf.
