Susan Robertson

@snullr.bsky.social

933 Followers 595 Following

Borderline Luddite. Sometimes writes.

A light cream rectangular chapbook on top of a large shale fossil fern. Verfondre | Wormmelt is centered at the top. Annick McAskill is centered under it. Below both is a reverse image of foliage including a fern. The background of the image is midnight blue.
Where is the star? Hail winter’s roses On the earth, rays white The black knot of cloud Traduction fondue: Les quatre vents de l’espirit, Victor Hugo.
The winter issue of "The Fiddlehead" resting on the seat of a rocking chair. The seat is covered in black and white pillow ticking. The journal cover shows a vague figure of a person standing in a bus shelter. It appears to be a winter night with snow on the ground and the roof of the shelter.
A poster announcing Baseline Press' 2026 poets. Photos of the five poets are posted top to bottom along the left side of the poster. Their names are posted on the left: Annick MacAskill, John Barton, Jaeyun Yoo, Susan Gillis, Sophia Cirignano.
The front of a beige, tall rectangular chapbook on a dark wood background. The left side features an etching of a snakemouth orchid. The title, Cleft, and the author's name, Michael Goodfellow, are printed in the upper left hand corner.
A three line poem that reads screen door-- one hundred sunrises in the baby's palm
The image of a poem by Jean Valentine that reads Mare and Newborn Foal When you die there will be bales of hay heaped high in space mean while with my tongue I draw the black straw out of you mean while with your tongue you draw the black straw out of me
A poem by Charles Simic titled Poem: Every morning I forget how it is. I watch smoke mount In great strides above the city. I belong to no one. Then, I remember my shoes, How I have to put them on, How bending over to tie then up I will look into the earth.
A poster announcing a Baseline Press chapbook launch on Saturday, September 20, 2:00 p.m. at the Sunnyside Library, 1049 Bank St., Ottawa. The top third of the poster contains the location and time information in white letters against a teal field. The bottom third contains headshots of the authors arranged in horizontal row: Dagne Forrest first, then guest reader Nancy Huggett, and Susan Robertson. The authors’ names are printed above their photos.
From the start, the part of my mind that conceives real poems (as opposed to the ego that forces fakes) seems to have worked to subvert my tendency to overthink and over-explain the world. It has recruited me into the role of stenographer to my nightmind; it has nudged me towards difficult, hence usefully estranging, languages and the act of translation—which, like dreams, demotes the bossy, noisy ego, since translators must submit and apprentice themselves to the source text and labour in service to it.
A capture of a Baseline Press web page of a tall, narrow, blue-grey chapbook. So I Go is centered near the top in black block letters. Susan Robertson is printed underneath and under that an image of three swallows in flight. This chapbook rests on top of two other copies which are opened, one to the front flyleaf, the other to a poem. Sold Out is printed block white letters against black in the top right corner.
Six Baseline press bookmarks in shades of tan and gray fanned out on a white surface. They read “Everything goes better with poetry,” “Get the door, it’s poetry,” Poetry…unless you hate fun,” When the going gets though, the tough get poetry,” “Have you had your poetry today,” and “Poetry happens here!”
A long, narrow poem, ‘Still Life with Shadows’ by Susan Robertson. Friable soft yellow faded to fawn— three daffodils left to dry in a small brown bottle that once held tincture of rose gifted to you by your niece for anxiety after the news rest on the desk next to your mother’s diary held together with a rubber band.
A photo of a hand holding a book with the cover facing forward. The top two thirds of the book is beige with bronze circles of different sizes. The larger ones are just outlined and these overlap slightly. A free smaller circles are filled in. The lower third of the cover is black and has the words “The Penguin Book of Spiritual Verse 110 Poets on the Divine, edited by Kaveh Akbar.” One of the larger outlined circles from the top of the cover spills over into this section which also includes three of the smaller solid circles.
A picture of the cover Monty Reid's chapbook Vertebrata. A black and white drawing of three vertebrae covers most of the page. The word "vertebrata" runs vertically down the left side. The author's name, Monty Reid, is printed at the bottom.
Author photos of five people announcing the 2025 Baseline Press lineup. The authors are Susan Robertson, Dagne Forrest, Jasmine Gui, Salma Husain, and Steve McOrmond.
FOUR TEASPOONS TO ONE QUART I was taught God made us in His image. Let’s mix the bleach— I’m cleaning cupboards. Four teaspoons bleach to one quart water. Many of Gaza’s Medical Workers Have Been Detained or Killed. I was taught God made us in His image. I spritz the outside of a door, circle the sponge. Israeli Strike Kills Dozens at Gaza Shelter. I’m cleaning cupboards. Rinse the sponge, swab the inside; the hinges squeak. ‘They Are Burned Alive’: A Doctor Captures the Toll of War on Gaza’s Children I was taught God made us in His image. The paper lining the shelves should be replaced. At Least 30 Are Reported Killed in Khan Younis in 24 Hours I’m cleaning cupboards. Seven cabinets above, eight below. U.S. Will Allow Delivery of 500-Pound Bombs to Israel, an Official Says. I was taught God made me in His image. I’m cleaning cupboards.
A picture of two poetry books: Mosab Abu Toha’s “Forest of Noise” and Danez Smith’s “Bluff.”
The cover of the fall issue of Contemporary Verse II featuring a photo of display with an installation. A large painting in shades of beige rests against a wall on the left. On the right is a shelving unit made of thick dowels of blond wood. Under it is a miniature yellow table and two yellow chairs.
An image of a poem from “Psaltery & Lyre” Instead of Writing a Poem I visited my friend. We sat in her deck Under the trees drinking coffee. A jay Jared— (I didn’t feel the lack of a poem) then the shrill- sharp notes of a bird we couldn’t name.
Long, narrow, yellow Opaat Press leaflet titled “Tired, Saturday” by Fawn Parker held by one hand.
Baby bunny surrounded by green grass
A trout lily, a yellow spring wildflower with curled star like petals and brown spotted green leaves surrounded by dried fall leaves
Two small bees on purple/blue early spring flowers
A white cat sleeping in a lap completely covering it. A single human hand behind it holds a copy of Kaveh Akbar’s “Martyr!”
An orange, yellow, and red maple leaf on a wet wood deck. It’s fall!