
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Jen Karetnick is the author of 14 collections of poetry, including Bamboo Spine (Propel Disability Poetry Book Series, 2027); Organ Language (Lit Fox Books, September 2026); and Inheritance with a High Error Rate (January 2024), winner of the 2022 Cider Press Review Book Award. Her work has won the Press 53 Poem Summer Challenge, Sweet: Lit Poetry Prize, Tiferet Writing Contest for Poetry, Split Rock Review Chapbook Competition, Hart Crane Memorial Prize, and Anna Davidson Rosenberg Prize, among other honors, and received support from more than a dozen residency and grants organizations. The co-founder of SWWIM and managing editor of SWWIM Every Day, she has had work in Michigan Quarterly Review, The Missouri Review, New Ohio Review, North American Review, Plume, Poets.org, and elsewhere. Jen is also the author/co-author of nine cookbooks and guidebooks. Based in Miami, she lives in a century-old house located in a designated bird sanctuary. See jkaretnick.com.
ABOUT THE BOOK:
What happens when you set yourself a constraint-based writing challenge? Sometimes, a book like Domiciliary comes out of it. During the pandemic, Miami-based, New Jersey-native poet Jen Karetnick tasked herself to write 26 beautiful outlaws and 26 abecedarians, one of each titled for every letter in the alphabet. The result is poems that run riot over traditions and expectations, with many meshing multiple forms together in a strata of craft—but all of them exploring some aspect of what it means to be “home,” where this poet often finds herself.
ADVANCE PRAISE:
In Domiciliary, the brilliant Jen Karetnick demonstrates, once again, her mastery of form (including a bounty of abecedarians inspired by voices as diverse as Madonna and Sylvia Plath, and an outlaw ghazal, triolet, tritina, villanelle, rimas dissolutas, and rondeau), in the most exciting and unexpected ways. Domiciliary is a hard-earned and hard-learned lesson in hunger, in desire, in what makes a home a ‘home,’ in what happens when we abuse our planet, and what happens when we fracture time. Jen writes, “Across the way, fruit trees bloom twice as if to make up for lost time.” This is a book for the poets and the people. This is a book written in the voice of a wise friend. This is a book you’ll return to again and again—not just for the counsel, but for the beauty, the wit and the fun.
—Nicole Tallman, Poet Laureate of Miami